


Two Soldiers And A Baby

by Clarybell90



Series: Of Lions and Coeurls [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Relationships, Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Just a bunch of good parents that are trying too hard, M/M, Mostly just for the glaives, Mutual Pining, No idea how I'm going to tackle this beast, Parent Cor Leonis, Parent Nyx Ulric, Some MT shit so be warned, Some ideas I have for Galahdian culture, Some minor age shifting, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarybell90/pseuds/Clarybell90
Summary: Cor wasn't prepared for what he'd find in, and what he'd take, from that lab. Now saddled with a child, Cor finds help in the oddest of places.AKA: Cor gets a baby. Nyx helps him with said baby. Romance ensues.
Relationships: Cor Leonis/Nyx Ulric, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Prompto Argentum & Cor Leonis, Prompto Argentum & Nyx Ulric
Series: Of Lions and Coeurls [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879411
Comments: 199
Kudos: 457





	1. Chapter 1

Cor has done some absolutely stupid shit in his youth. Half of his scars, and about all of his friends will attest to that. Yet some part of his brain had thought that he had gone past that point as a person. An, _'ah yes we won't be this idiotic again'_ , kind of feeling. 

And here he is doing something reckless that will probably get him killed, once again. He can already hear Clarus screaming at him for this. Yet Cor presses onward, intensely focused on sneaking into this Niflheimian lab.

Really, he shouldn't be doing this. His nickname is just that, a nickname. No one is immortal. He can and probably will die if he gets caught this far behind enemy lines, on a mission that isn't even down on the books. No one will be looking for him, not for a long time. This is a monumentally stupid idea that he shouldn't even be entertaining right now.

Somehow, though, Cor doesn't even listen to his own common sense. Seems his stubborn streak extends into his own subconscious. Maybe he should be more concerned about that fact, but instead Cor focuses on finessing his way into the lab without a key card.

It's easy enough, seeing as no one bothered to expect that such a remote facility could be broken into. So, hand on his katana, he makes his way through the facility.

He finds little in regards to people, but he does find piles upon piles of notes and lab reports. Hundreds of different observations, ranging from simple endurance tests to the pain tolerance of the different subjects. Cor parses through them, storing what he thinks could be useful in the armiger as he goes. It's not he finds a single picture does he pause.

A small child looks up at the camera, face blanker than any five year old should be. A serial code is printed on the back of the picture, as well as a large stamp with the word FAILED in red ink. Something in Cor's stomach twists at the sight.

Daring to go back to the filing cabinets he was previously ransacking, Cor hunts down the eight digit code that corresponds with the picture. The outside is marked with another stamp, like the picture. TERMINATED. Steeling himself, Cor opens the file and begins reading.

It outlines the growth and progress of a test subject, only designated 00678233. He was one out of seven in his batch of clones that survived past the gestation period. It shows his aptitude for puzzle solving, his endurance, his accuracy with a gun, and even his apparent cognitive awareness.

The file also outlines every single modification they put into the boy, starting at just two years old. Descriptive detail of how his body kept rejecting the metal implants, how blood refused to react well with his injections, and the several surgeries it took to keep him alive after three separate organ shutdown incidents. The end only says that the newest batch of clones were all decommissioned after the cost of upkeep outweighed their benefit. The final date was nearly a year ago.

Cor feels sick. Beyond sick. Like he's been infected just by reading the file. Scourge injections, mechanical arms, brain implants, reconditioning. Ice claws it's way through Cor's chest.

MTs started as children. Children that suffered in underground facilities their whole life, with no one there to help them. No one to save them from becoming Scourge infested machines.

The ice in his veins turns to flaming hot rage. They could be back at any moment, here for the files they left behind. Cor has no intention on letting them have anything.

Shoving 00678233's file - god he hates that the kid didn't have a name - into the armiger, Cor gets up to find his way to the generators. The place is giant, everything labeled with clinical scientific names. Cor stalks by them all, not sure if he could handle what he'd find in each room. With his single-minded focus, he finds his destination quickly.

Most magical explosives were kept reserved for the Kingsglaive, perfect for their specific brand of front line chaos. Officially the Crownsguard wasn't supposed to have access to this particular kind of weapon. Then again, most Crownsguard didn't have any access to the king's magic. And while yes, Regis kept his things in a separate place than the Glaive, that didn't make it impossible for the King to reach the many things stored there.

If Cor just so happened to drop a hint that he'd like something moved to from one dimensional pocket to another, well. Regis knew better than to ask too many questions. So that is how Cor ended up with the several dangerous explosives that he was now strapping to the generators. Pressing a single button sets the timer. Ten minutes and counting. Plenty of time for him to get out of here before the whole place blows up.

Cor barely even bothers to run, knowing perfectly well he'll be just fine. The way back is rather straight forward, and with no detours to take he'll be out in five minutes tops.

But Cor falters when he sees a room with one simple label, 'The Nursery'. It was nondescript. No windows, no lights visible through the cracks, and no sounds coming through it. Of course Cor missed it on his way down.

And of course now he has to go in. Has to make sure. Has to know that there is no children inside, that the monsters than ran this place didn't have enough time to redo their experiments. That Cor won't cause any more suffering.

He'd known from reading the files that the clones were made in tubes. He still wasn't prepared to open the door and find nothing but liquid filled chambers lining the walls. The lights flicker on once they sense his movement, illuminating the hundred or so fetuses floating in thick, clear liquid.

Cor parses past most of them, chest tight as he reads over how long they've been gestating. All of them are only a few weeks old, tiny fingers just starting to form. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't take a single one. They would die the moment they left their tanks. Every single one of them will have to die in the explosion.

Yet at the end of the room, Cor finds a door. Opening it reveals.... Cages. Hundreds of them, like an animal shelter. Bile rises to the back of Cor's throat.

Looking in the closest ones reveals nothing but bare metal. There's no sounds that would indicate any child being in here. Yet.... Cor moves on, looking into every single cage. His eyes carefully rove through them, hoping that he'll find nothing.

Of course that's the moment he finds two little hands reaching for him. The baby's eyes are bright blue, and frizzy blonde hair is already atop their skull. They can't be more than a couple months old, as the child barely manages to roll over as to reach more for Cor.

Despite the panic flooding through Cor, the baby remains calm. In fact, they coo as Cor cautiously reaches in to touch. Small, chubby fingers wrap around one of his own, and within seconds Cor finds he's become quite the pacifier. Nothing about the baby seems off. Perfectly normal, healthy even.

So before he can think too much on it, Cor finds him unlocking the cage and taking the baby into his arms. Frantic searching soon after reveals several tubs of baby formula, and couple cloth diapers. They all disappear into the armiger right as a low rumble echoes through the floor, followed by a blaring alarm.

Both Cor and the baby startle, the child crying at the loud and sudden noise. Cor doesn't take the time to comfort it, instead bolting for the exit. More rumbles shake the facility, smoke filtering in through the vents. He'd taken too long looking for survivors. 

Cor barely manages to stumble out the door before there's a loud boom, followed by smoke and dust pouring out of the now blocked entrance. Panting slightly, Cor looks down at the small bundle in his arms.

They've stopped crying, now staring up at the night sky. They gurgle, reaching a smoke stained hand up towards the stars. Their little legs kick against Cor's elbow, excited by the new sights.

Too much adrenaline still courses through Cor's veins to enjoy the sight of a happy baby. So instead he focuses on finding the nearest haven, determined to not have two near death experiences tonight.

* * *

Eight months. That's how long it takes Cor to stumble his way back to Hammerhead, child in tow. By now the kid's started talking, even giving a few determined efforts to walk after they've settled down for the night. The blonde mop on his head has only grown, and at this point the poor kid probably needs a haircut.

Not that Cor looks any better. His normally sparse beard has grown, hair no longer carefully trimmed. Last time he had a shower was in Cape Caem, and that was before a particularly hard hunt he'd gotten near the Chocobo Post. He used the money from there to buy supplies for the child, and the remaining gil went towards renting a chocobo. The kid's delighted squealing alone was worth it, never mind the fact that it got him all the way to Hammerhead.

Cor passes over some greens in thanks before making his way to the garage. Blonde curls peak around the corner, taking in the new visitor. Cindy smiles up at Cor, grease smeared all over her face.

"Paw-Paw is working. Want me to get him?"

"Yes. Tell him its an old friend."

Cindy giggles and rushes off into the relative dim of the garage. Cor leans against the outside walls, absentmindedly allowing the baby in his arms chew on his fingers. His few teeth dig into Cor's calluses, but lack the force to even hurt. It soothes the kid though, so Cor tolerates it.

"Well I'll be damned," Cid drawls, turning the corner of the garage, "The Immortal has a toddler. Not a sight I'd ever think I would see."

Cor scowls slightly, just for a the principle of it, but then the kid squawks and the face falls as he instinctively glances down.

"He's not mine. I found him," Cor says, carefully wiggling his fingers in front of the kid's face to avoid another fit. It doesn't work. He's too distracted by Cid's presence. He glares with a look that is entirely too much like Cor. Cid laughs in response.

"Tell that to the kid. He got a name?"

Cor pauses, then shrugs, "Never came up with one. Figured he's get one when I get back to Insomnia."

"Six, Cor. Did you really stumble through the wilderness with a child and never come up with a name?"

"Did you expect any better?"

"Expect? No. Hope? You bet I did. Let me see him," Cid says, unfolding his arms from his chest to offer them to the child. The blonde boy looks rather indignant for a kid barely over one. He grabs onto Cor's jacket, holding on with all the strength his tiny hands can muster, challenging Cid to even try to take him.

All it does is make Cid laugh again, "You're stuck with him, Leonis. Better figure out a name quick, cause I doubt Regis will want to separate you if he gives another show like that."

Cor grumbles something in response. Then, upon the mention of Regis, he winces.

"I need to borrow a phone."

"You leave yours at home again?"

"No," Cor says, "It got shot. Literally."

As if to prove his point, Cor pulls the offending piece of technology out of his pocket. A single hole runs through it, clear evidence that a bullet went through it. Cid raises an eyebrow at Cor, but when the younger man offers no explanation, he just huffs and passes over a clunky flip phone.

Cor doesn't bat an eye, dialing one of the three numbers he has memorized. The baby watches in fascination at the beeps and ringing the phone makes. He makes a grabbing motion at it, pouting when Cor instead lifts the device up to his ear. He hears the ringtone five times before someone answers.

"Cid?" Regis' voice filters through the speaker, crackling slightly from tower interference.

"Cor."

"Ah," Pause, "I suppose now is as good of a time as any to ask where you've been for the past year or so?"

"Nifleheim. If you bothered to clean the armiger out once in a while, you'd have found what I shoved in there. I suggest doing it soon."

Regis gives a small sigh, and in the background Cor can hear Clarus snickering at the jab.

"Did you call for more than a status check?"

"I need a ride. Preferably soon."

Paper shuffles quietly for a moment, "There should be some Glaives in the area within a day or two, coming back from deployment. I'll tell them to pick you up."

Cor grunts in acknowledgement, before unceremoniously hanging up on his king. Cid shakes his head as he takes his phone back, having to carefully keep it out of reach of the rather grabby toddler in Cor's arms.

"Are you going to surprise him with a child?"

"It'll keep him on his toes."

Cid looks like he wants to say more, but then he points to the back of the garage.

"There's a shower back there. Come talk to me again when the two of you look less like imps and more like people."

Cor gives Cid a mock salute, before taking his offer. The baby, watching Cor do it, looks between the two men and repeats the motion. Cid snorts lightly.

"Quick little thing, ain't he?"

Cor looks down at the baby, finding blue eyes gazing up at him for approval.

"Yeah," He mutters, "Quick."

* * *

The Kingsglaive convoy arrives early the next morning. A couple dozen Glaives stumble out of the black vehicles. Some head into the store, while others move on to Takka's diner in hopes of an actually hot breakfast. Only a couple stay out in the brightly lit parking lot.

Cor watches them drift through Hammerhead, a drooling baby sleeping with his head on Cor's shoulder. Categorizing the Glaives is easy enough. The few who came from Insomnia stick together, the refugees from Tenebrae can be picked out by their accents alone, and the Galahdians are loud. Very loud.

For thirty minutes they all relax. It's not until one of the drivers start signaling the end of their break does anyone take notice of Cor. A few jump slightly upon seeing him, but most watch with open fascination, eyes on the baby currently trying to eat the Marshal's jacket in his sleep.

Finally one approaches. He's one of the Galahdians, beads reflecting the floodlights slightly. Small tattoos mark his face, lines and arrows. A soldier even before the fall of Galahd.

"Marshal. We're getting ready to go," He says. His eyes keep darting to a blonde head laying next to Cor's face. Something in his eyes soften every time he looks at the baby.

Cor grunts softly, standing up. Tiny fingers wrap around his ear as he stands. Shifting his grip slightly, he pulls the kid away, lest he start yanking.

"How did they convince someone to finally come talk to me? Everyone seems too jumpy for frontliners," Cor says. The Glaive's eyes dart back to his team, where they indeed sit on edge.

"They're still winding down from deployment," He explains, "And I'm unfortunately the highest ranking person in the convoy."

Cor raises an eyebrow. The man can't be much older than eighteen. He seems to take Cor's scrutiny as judgment, if the tightening in his shoulders is anything to go off of.

"What's your name then?"

He blinks, obviously surprised, "Ulric. Lieutenant Nyx Ulric."

"Dratos still on the frontlines?"

"Yes sir."

Cor hums, realizing that this is just a group that's taking their break. Nothing too disastrous happened, then, while he was gone. Good. It's normally up to him to fix those disasters after all, and all Cor wants right now is to sleep in a bed for more than six hours. Hell, even a couch would be good. Anything other than the sleepingbag he keeps in the armiger.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask who this is?"

Cor looks over to see Ulric holding out a finger for small hands to wrap around. The kid had woken up, and is now determinedly trying to get Nyx's knuckle into his mouth. That seems to be hard though, because Nyx starts cooing softly to him. So he's stuck between giggling at the Glaive, and trying to chew his fingers off.

"This is.... Prompto."

Somewhere in his mind Cor can hear Cid scoffing at him, despite the older man being still asleep inside. It's not a creative name. In fact, Cor practically stole it from Cid.

"Well. Nice to meet you, Prompto," Nyx murmurs. Prompto babbles happily.

Somehow, though, Cor doesn't think Prompto will care.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you draw the short end of the stick again, Ulric?" The Marshal asks, face oddly blank for a man who currently has a toddler trying to rip his stubble out.

Nyx tries to not fidget. He doesn't know what he expected when he got back for the next few weeks, but it definitely wasn't an audience with the King. Wasn't Cor the Immortal giving him a flat look as he tries to make his travel worn clothes look more presentable. Wasn't a little blonde haired, blue eyed baby that kept babbling out his name after learning it.

Some part of himself curses the fact that he decided to take a break and head to Insomnia. He could have insisted he stay. Could still be on the front lines fighting instead of inside the Citadel, waiting to be let in the King's study.

Small mercies, he supposes. This could be a full fledged council meeting. He could be walking into a room filled with stuffy, judgmental nobles too busy looking at his braids and tattoos to see the uniform he wears.

Somehow, though, the prospect of being in the same room as three of the most powerful people in Lucis doesn't sit quite well in his gut. Not that it hasn't been twisting since they stopped in Hammerhead. Damn Drautos for promoting him. Damn the others of his rank who could have come, but didn't. Damn the bastard in charge of the phones that handed it to him.

But here he is, ordered to report to the King with the Marshal of the Crownsguard. Ramuh strike him down, someone like Nyx shouldn't be here.

"Nyx! Nyx, Nyx, Nyx!"

The squealing gets his attention. Turning Nyx finds a very energetic toddler leaning from his caretakers arms and towards him. His chubby little fingers make grabbing motions for him. When Nyx hesitates, Prompto takes things into his own hands and just gets louder.

So glancing up at Cor's face, Nyx carefully takes Prompto from him. Instantly he finds Nyx's hair, wrapping small fists around it as if daring Nyx to put him down. When he doesn't, he relaxes his hold and instead buries his face into Nyx's shoulder.

This isn't the first time he's done this. In fact, just a few minutes after meeting Nyx the little boy seemed to decide ' _Yes. He's mine_ ', without regard to Nyx's own thoughts about things. Not that a toddler would care much about what Nyx wants.

However, Nyx's eyes still dart to Leonis' face as Prompto proceeds to cuddle him. Nyx still remembers his expression in the truck when Prompto had crawled into his lap. Surprise. It was only there for a moment before being masked by indifference, but Nyx still saw it. Cor was surprised that Prompto liked Nyx.

He isn't reacting now though, so Nyx does his best to focus on making the one year old in his arms happy instead of the impending meeting. It almost works, the giggling of a toddler easily drowning out the anxiety twisting through his stomach.

At least until a blank faced servant opens the door, gesturing them inside. Stone cold dread fills Nyx's chest, despite the toddler still in his arms. Still, he follows the Marshal in and hopes everything is over quickly. That the King would recognize that Nyx did his job in delivering him back to Insomnia, and he can go home to rant about shitty food with Libertus right after.

Prompto quiets when they enter the room, seemingly noticing the tension in Nyx's frame. His little hands once again find his hair, playing with it. He burbles quiet nonsense into Nyx's ear.

King Regis is sitting at his desk, Lord Amicitia standing just behind him. The Marshal barely bothers to bow his head before sprawling out on one of the armchairs in front of the King. Nyx hangs further back in the room, standing as close to attention as he can with a cooing toddler in his arms.

The King's face looks grim. A pile of papers sit out in front of him, and a picture peeks out from under it all. Nyx gets a glance of blonde hair and blue eyes, nearly the same shade as Prompto's. Something twists uncomfortably in his chest.

"I took your suggestion, Cor, and pulled out what you uncovered while behind enemy lines. It's a.... Disturbing realization, to say at least," King Regis says. His eyes flick to Nyx, and then down to the child in his arms. His frown deepens for a moment before he turns his attention back to the Marshal.

"Is the child from the same place?"

Cor only grunts, tilting his head back against the plush chair behind him. Regis reaches a hand up to pinch his nose, a clear indication of frustration.

"And you didn't think to warn me?" He asks.

Cor shrugs, "Call it an exercise in unpredictability."

Nyx tries to not stiffen too much as the King turns to look at him again, this time clearly taking in the still dirty uniform Nyx is wearing. He seems to recognize Nyx's face. Whether it's from his several punishment shifts guarding council meetings, or his ceremony where he got his magic, or even the few incidents where Nyx had to report to Drautos in emergencies, Nyx isn't sure.

"Glaive Ulric. Come here."

Heart pounding in his ears, Nyx goes to stand across from the King. He can feel Lord Amicitia's eyes on him, assessing for the new possible threat. Swallowing thickly, he waits for new orders.

Prompto, however, has no concept for orders yet. So when they move towards new, strange people, he turns to look at them. His eyes dart between his Majesty, Cor, and Amicitia for a couple seconds, legs kicking softly against Nyx's side. His little eyes narrow, a miniature version of Cor's own assessing look.

But then his eyes land on the King's beard, and he makes an excited little noise. Nyx has to adjust his grip as the one year old starts tilting in his grip, reaching for Regis. He bounces as best as he can in Nyx's arms, wanting desperately to be passed over to this new bearded man.

Regis' face softens as he looks at the toddler now making grabby hands towards his face. Before Nyx can apologize, the King is reaching over to pull Prompto out of his arms. Nyx freezes slightly in shock, watching as tiny fists bunch up in Regis' beard.

The King bounces Prompto softly on his knee, seemingly not minding the small tugs Prompto gives to the hair on his face.

"Noctis thinks much the same as you, little one," He murmurs softly. Prompto only happily chatters in return, half formed words and nonsense. Yet the King only smiles, as if the toddler just said something very smart.

"Have you noticed anything unusual with the child, Ulric?"

"Uh- No sir. Majesty," He stammers, "He acts just like a normal toddler."

Regis nods, before turning to look at Cor.

"And you?"

"He has a barcode. Right wrist, covered by a bandage."

Nyx suddenly feels cold. He watches as the King carefully tugs a little hand free for him to see. Sure enough, once the bandage is unraveled, there sits a bar code. it's impossibly dark against Prompto's pale skin. When Regis brushes a thumb over top of it, Prompto flinches away. He starts crying, and then Cor is up and plucking Prompto out of the King's lap before anyone else can react.

Prompto buries his face in Cor's chest, quieting down to soft little hiccups in seconds. The King watches everything with a tight frown. Nyx thinks he might be sick.

"We'll discuss this more later. For now we need to discuss custody of the child."

"Prompto."

"Prompto, then," The King corrects, looking at Cor, "He's attached to you, Cor. But do you have _any_ experience with taking care of a child?"

Before the Marshal can answer, Amicitia interrupts, "Really take care of them, Cor. Not babysitting. Not just surviving with a child."

Cor's mouth shuts. Neither the King nor Lord Amicitia look pleased. Yet the way that Cor's holding Prompto just a little bit tighter says enough. Prompto is Cor's kid, even if he won't vocally admit it.

Damn it. Nyx knows he's an idiot, a stupid bleeding heart that loves to help people, but this is an extra dumb idea. Libertus is going to throw him out of the window for this.

So that's the exact reason Nyx doesn't let himself think too hard on it before speaking.

"I can help out the Marshal, your Majesty."

All of them turn to face him. It's hard to not shrink under their gazes.

"I used to help my mother take care of my sister, when I was younger," He explains, "It's been a few years, but I still remember most of it."

There's quiet for a long moment before Regis gives a small, meaningful smile. It feels like a weight has been lifted off of Nyx's chest.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Ulric. I don't see an issue with it, as long as Cor agrees."

Then Nyx finds himself turning towards Cor. They make eye contact as Cor assesses him. His jaw twitches sightly as he silently judges everything that he can see in Nyx.

"Of course," Regis chimes in, cheerily, "You could always spend more time at the Citadel so I could help you, Cor."

Cor winces and looks away from Nyx. Nyx gets the distinct feeling that a grumpy voretooth gives off, but he can also sense the surrender there. Going by the King's growing smile, he can too.

* * *

Nyx holds Prompto tightly in his lap as they carefully weave through midday traffic. The toddler doesn't seem to mind being held so close. In fact, he takes it as a wonderful opportunity to chew at Nyx's sleeve. At first the Glaive tried to stop him, worried about how dirty his clothes are, but all he got for that was a screaming toddler. So here he sits, getting drool all over his uniform.

Cor is driving, eyes firmly on the traffic ahead of them. His expression is blank in a way that should make Nyx twitch, but he also watched the man have the very same face while extracting a baby from his arms with little cooing noises. So maybe, just maybe, that's Cor's default. One hell of a resting bitch face, that's for sure.

Now what does make him twitch is the path they're taking through the city. As soon as they'd left the Citadel the Marshal had asked him for his address. Nyx had tried to brush him off, saying it'd be better if Cor just gave Nyx _his_ address, and Nyx could go there after he cleaned up. Then Cor had given him a look that was entirely too knowing.

 _'You got yourself into this, Ulric,'_ He had said, _'And I know for a fact that I have no idea what to buy a baby. It's on you now.'_

There was no arguing after that. So Nyx told him where his rickety apartment was, all the way in the Galahdian district, and tried to not think about how much of a mess it'll be when they get there.

Nyx just hopes that the rest of the Glaive is already off at that bar they like to meet at. Or asleep. Or even both. As long as none of them know about Nyx's stupid decision just yet.

When they park, Cor doesn't give the place the same once over that most Insomnians give the Galahdian district. He also doesn't seem concerned with the possibility that the nice ass car he used to drive here could be stolen. How much of that is from lack of judgment, or assurance that he's the Immortal and no one is dumb enough to fuck with him, is up for debate. It does help to soothe a growing ball of tension between Nyx's shoulders, however.

The elevator is still broken, seven whole months after the last time he was here, so Nyx leads Cor up the stairs. They don't pass any Glaives, thank Ramuh, and make it to his apartment without much incident.

The inside is hot and stuffy, the AC having been off for months now. Nyx flicks it on, avidly trying to not look at the peeling paint and half broken floorboards. The window unit stutters for a moment before finally puttering to life, giving at least some airflow.

Nyx snags some clean civilian clothing out of one of the baskets he uses for laundry. Only then does he turn to look at the Marshal, to pass Prompto off to him.

The Lucian doesn't seem particularly put off by the barely held together apartment, or the fact that it's one room and practically a broom closet with a bathroom. He doesn't seem impressed, either, but at this point Nyx has just accepted that he probably never looks impressed.

Prompto babbles out Cor's name as he's passed into the Marshal's arms. His hands quickly find Cor's beard. Seems he still likes them, even after the incident earlier when he last touched a beard.

"I'll just take a shower, then we can get out of here."

Cor just nods. Nyx takes that as his cue to hurry into the obscenely small bathroom. He balances his clothes on the closed toilet seat, and tries to strip without being able to extend his arms. It's interesting, but eventually he gets loose.

Nyx pauses for a moment to look at himself in the mirror. At the fine dust and dirt that coats him, at the tangles and strange dried substances in his hair. They'd made their way straight back from their post, stopping only long enough to eat and use the restroom. None of them had gotten a bath in over two weeks.

And the King had seen Nyx like this. He tries not grimace and instead carefully unbraids the beads from his hair. It's not something he does often, but all of him needs a good scrub, including the strands under his beads. So, carefully, he places all of them onto the sink, mindful that they don't fall. Only once he's sure they're secure does he start the shower.

The water stays miserably lukewarm, but in the sweltering apartment it's almost nice for once. Nyx keeps running the water until dirt stops seeping down the drain, then he starts lathering himself with the cheap bar soap he keeps. Once that's rinsed he works through his hair. The sides are getting long again, so he washes those with shampoo instead of soap. In just a few minutes he feels closer to a person than a sand dune.

He's reluctant to leave the shower, but Cor is waiting outside, so Nyx forces himself to step out and towel off. Brushing his hair is an ordeal, as is rebraiding his beads in, but there's no way he'd let the Marshal of the Crownsguard see him without braids, even if the man has no idea what they mean.

Wrapping the towel around his shoulder to keep his shirt dry, Nyx leaves the cramped bathroom.

Cor is in the single chair in the whole apartment, Prompto on his lap, watching a cartoon about chocobos. The volume is loud enough that Nyx is sure his neighbors can hear it, but considering they can hear each other breathing, Nyx doesn't care to correct them. Making his way to his bed, Nyx pulls out his only other shoes, some boots he'd gotten during initial training. They're worn down, but still good enough to wear around town.

He tries to not look up at the Marshal as he laces up the boots.

"Furniture store first, then maybe the mall?" He asks. Cor grunts in agreement. They then proceed to fall into silence.

At least, until the walking earthquake that is his best friend bursts into his apartment.

"Nyx are you really going to watch cartoons instead of come out wi-" Libertus cuts himself off, eyes flying from Nyx on his bed, to Cor just a few feet away.

"Marshal! Sir!" Libertus sputters, "I- Nyx can we talk in the hall?"

Cor barely deigns to glace at the two of them as Libertus drags Nyx out into the hallway. Not that being in the hall will help, unless they whisper, because the walls are just that thin.

"What the _hell_ is the Marshal doing here?" Libertus practically hisses. Nyx manages a slightly sheepish look.

"I've got a new assignment. Directly from the King."

Libertus gapes.

"I offered to help the Marshal with taking care of Prompto. The King thought it was a good idea," Nyx shrugs.

Libertus looks like he wants to rip Nyx's braids out by the roots. He grits his teeth, hands up by his head, just trying to find the words. After floundering like a fish for a few minutes, Libertus finally seems to give up trying to come up with a clever way to express his rage and instead lets out a rather impressive string of cuss words in Galahdian. Nyx just watches, waiting for him to run out of steam.

"You're an idiot, you know that? An absolute idiot who doesn't know how to leave well enough alone."

"Yeah, Lib. I know."

"Good," Libertus grumbles, "Just wait until everyone else gets a load of the shit you got yourself into now."

It would be an interesting insult match, at the very least. Nyx finds himself looking forward to it. Cheap entertainment is the best kind of entertainment, after all.

"Well. I've got to go baby shopping with the Marshal. If I turn up dead tomorrow, I want you to have my stuff," Nyx jokes.

Lib glares, but Nyx can see the grin threatening to break through his lips. Nyx takes it as a victory.

"Fine. But if you don't die, I want the full story, got it?"

"Got it," Nyx grins.

And with that Nyx goes back into his apartment. Cor doesn't look like he heard anything, but Prompto turns to look at Nyx the moment the door shuts. He squeals happily, squirming his way off of Cor's lap and to the floor.

Nyx watches as Prompto crawls his way over to Nyx, too lazy to attempt to walk that far. Leaning down, Nyx plucks him off the floor the moment Prompto comes within arms reach. The toddler giggles the whole way up, blue eyes shining happily.

Well, if Nyx is stuck with them for what's probably the next few months, at least one of them is cute.


	3. Chapter 3

Cor squints at the instructions, hoping that somehow they'll become clearer with time. They don't, of course, and Cor is left still guessing on how to put a crib together.

Ulric sits a few feet away, putting together a high chair with Prompto snuggled happily in his lap. He's not having nearly the same trouble that Cor is with putting things together. In fact, he's already finished the other thing Cor gave him, a small dresser. That just leaves Cor with the crib and changing table, of which he has no idea how to assemble.

Eventually he gives up trying to read the instructions and just starts putting it together like it is in the picture. By the time he's finished. Nyx has moved to the living room to entertain Prompto. Quiet noises filter out from the next room, obviously a cartoon.

Cor ponders Nyx while he works. The Glaive is a bleeding heart, that's obvious enough. He cares too much, and that gets him in trouble. If he thinks hard enough on it, Cor can actually remember Drautos complaining about it once. Of how one of his new recruits would go in and take hits meant for his teammates. It doesn't take a genius to realize that same tendency is the exact reason he offered Cor his help.

Then came Ulric's apartment, though. Cor had expected it to be in the Galahdian district. Had known that the former residents of Galahd all seemed to stick together in the same area. What he didn't expect was the sparse furniture and run down inside of his home. Cor may be marshal of the Crownsguard, but he knew enough of the Kingsglaive to know they pay their soldiers plenty.

Which means that either Ulric is just fine living like that, or his money is going elsewhere. Cor would bet on it being the latter. He saw the way Nyx twitched when Cor was looking at his home. Saw just how uncomfortable he was with Cor in his apartment. He as embarrassed, and didn't want to admit it.

Not that Cor could judge. He lived in the barracks until Regis had worn him down enough that he bought this little two bedroom apartment near the Citadel. He didn't even have a community to help take care of. No, he just found no use living in his own place when he was hardly home anyways.

Well. Until now, he supposes. With Prompto, things might change. And that brings up the whole other issue.

Regis and Clarus were right, Cor knows nothing about how to take care of a child long term. Doesn't know how to find a school for them, a babysitter, how to teach them to talk, nothing. Every milestone Prompto has reached at this point has been all on his own, very little input from Cor.

It suddenly strikes Cor that he's been there for every single one of Prompto's big firsts. He'd listened as Prompto said his first word, said word being haven. He'd watched as Prompto pulled himself up on the tent and took his first shaky steps towards Cor. Hell, he'd even known the moment Prompto had gotten his first tooth, seeing as Cor is his favorite chew toy.

Cor has seen every single one.

It makes his chest feel both uncomfortably light, and heavy at the same time. Six, he's not ready for a kid.

Cor moves to grab something else to keep his hands busy, and finds that there's no pieces left. Both the crib and the changing table are finished. Rising from the floor, Cor carefully maneuvers the furniture into decent places in his guest bedroom. It's not hard, all that was in here before was a full bed and a side table. They're still set up, but now carefully rearranged to have room for baby things as well.

The sound of cartoons still drift in through the open door. Yet when he goes to the living room, Cor finds no one watching it. Instead he comes across a very much asleep Glaive, and a cuddly toddler on top of him.

Cor doesn't bother waking Nyx up. They both just came back from missions, and if he acknowledges it Cor can feel the bone deep tiredness in himself. So instead he plucks Prompto off of Ulric and starts getting the toddler ready for bed. By the time he's been fed and changed, Prompto is half asleep and hand wrapped in Cor's beard.

He contemplates putting Prompto into his brand new crib. That's what they bought it for, after all, but instead Cor carries the toddler to his room. The mattress is almost sinfully soft, and Cor barely manages to kick off his shoes before collapsing into it. Tugging Prompto close, Cor easily falls asleep.

* * *

He wakes up to tiny hands tugging on his beard. Groaning slightly, Cor sweeps Prompto into his chest as he rolls onto his side. The clock on the bedside table says it's nearly ten thirty in the morning. Honestly, he's amazed that Prompto stayed in bed that long.

Stumbling out of bed, Cor goes to the living room, Prompto still in hand.

And he finds an empty apartment.

Cor frowns slightly. He should have realized that Nyx would leave. After all, this isn't the Glaive's house. He probably didn't feel welcome, and thought that Cor would appreciate him leaving him to sleep.

The problem, though, is that Prompto is currently craning his neck as far as it can go, looking for the other man that isn't here. He whines, kicking his legs against Cor's side. Sighing, Cor sits Prompto down on the ground. The toddler takes a few wobbling steps, before lowering himself down to a crawl. Cor watches for a few minutes as he makes his way through the living room, as if Nyx is hiding somewhere.

Deciding to take advantage of the quiet moment, before the inevitable fit, Cor goes into the kitchen to make some coffee. There, he finds a note scrawled onto the back of a paper plate. On it he finds a phone number, and an explanation saying that Nyx had to go buy food after seven months gone.

Now that Cor thinks about it, so does he. The only things in his cabinet is coffee grounds, and Cup Noodles. Only one of those things are edible to a toddler, and Cor still winces just imagining Prompto trying to eat soup.

So Cor resolves himself to eating breakfast at some diner, and then taking Prompto to the store to restock.

That's as far as Cor gets, though, before screaming has him instinctively rushing back into the living room. Prompto is sitting in the middle of the room, crying as loudly as he can. He pauses for a moment when Cor comes in, just long enough for Cor to see his wobbling lower lip and misty eyes, before once again trying to imitate an air siren.

Cor scoops Prompto into his arms, bouncing the toddler softly. It's a technique that Cor's seen Regis employ on a much smaller Noctis. Sadly, though, it only stops the high pitched screaming. The little sniffles, and the distressed whining doesn't quiet down at all.

"I know, kiddo," Cor whispers, because anything louder than that seems wrong in the moment, "Your new friend is gone."

That, in itself, is a strange thing to say out loud. Ever since he had first gotten Prompto, the boy had refused to leave his side for long. Cor still remembers when, five months in, Cor had taken a hunt in Altissia. Weskham had agreed to take the boy while he went, happy to help a friend. Cor had even tried to make it easier by putting Prompto to sleep before heading out.

Yet when Cor came back after killing a few imps down in dark alleyways, he'd found Weskham desperately trying to soothe a crying baby. It was weird too, since Cor wasn't usually the one that was better with children, but the moment Prompto was back in his arms, he'd quieted down. He had also given Cor's beard the hardest tug his tiny arms could muster.

Prompto had refused to even go into another person's arms after that. Cid hadn't had a unique experience. And while, yes, Cor could see why Prompto had gone to Regis - Prompto's obsession with beards aside, Regis just oozed fatherly energy - Nyx was a mystery.

It felt wrong to be on the other end of the crying. To have Prompto in his arms wanting someone else. It hasn't happened before. Honestly, Cor had resigned himself to being the only person that Prompto would really like, until now.

Small fingers wrap themselves through his beard. Normally Cor would have trimmed it already, but every time he thinks about it, Prompto once again goes to it for comfort. Humming a sound that Cor hopes is soothing, he balances Prompto with one arm as he makes his coffee.

Something tells Cor that this will be a very long day.

* * *

The grocery store was a minor disaster, if only due to the fact that Prompto very much did not want to interact with anyone other than Cor or Nyx. This was hard because people caught sight of those big blue eyes, and instantly melt. Cor found himself having to dodge out of sight of so many little old ladies that it wasn't even funny anymore.

Breakfast at a diner isn't much better. Normally Prompto is a black hole when it comes to food. Yet every single time a new person walked by Prompto would stop eating just to glare at them, as if daring them to try and approach. The poor waitress ended up the main source of Prompto's ire. Cor barely managed to eat half his food before just getting boxes and leaving.

So now he sits across from Prompto at his apartment, watching the toddler finally properly tear into his food. Cor was smart enough to not put syrup on the pancake, but there had been plenty of whipped cream which now decorates Prompto's face. The brand new high chair is also thoroughly coated, and Cor is already dreading having to wipe that mess down.

Cor leaves his omelette in the fridge, planning on eating it for lunch. Currently he's working his way through the several dozen emails he'd gotten while gone, brand new phone in hand. Monica, thankfully, took care of the many things specific to the Crownsguard. All that Cor is left with are the things so highly classified that even his second in command isn't privy to them.

"Down!" Prompto interrupts, bouncing in his seat. Cor leaves his phone on the counter and carries the toddler into the bathroom. Opening up a newly acquired bottle of bubble bath, Cor starts up the warm water and then works on stripping a very wiggly blonde for a bath.

Bubble baths are a hit. Prompto stares at the foam for a very long moment, before he tries to forcefully grab the suds with bare hands. He doesn't get upset, though, when all he does is leave an indent in the bubbles. In fact, he thinks it's the best thing in the world. Cor watches as the toddler plays for several long minutes, letting himself enjoy the kid's happy coos.

When he finally does have to work at getting the whipped cream off of Prompto's face, Cor finds very little resistance. Warm water must be a novelty for him, after the several months they'd had in the wilderness. Between that, and the soft cloth Cor's using, this must be great.

That thought doesn't make Cor feel better, though. All Prompto has known so far is survival, not what it's like to be a kid. Hell, up until yesterday, the kid never even had toys. He just went from one hell to another, slightly better one. Cor's stomach twists.

Wrapping Prompto in a towel, Cor puts the now burritoed child slightly over his shoulder, and happy giggles ensue. In just a few minutes Cor has Prompto plopped down onto the guest bed, getting his hair dried. He doesn't resist, and just happily babbles more as Cor gets him redressed.

While pulling diapers out of the shopping bag they still sit in, Cor catches sight of something Nyx had dropped in the basket halfway through the trip. Cor hadn't bothered asking him about it. Honestly, at that point he'd just let Ulric lead everything.

Pulling it out, Cor finds a small chocobo plush staring back at him. It's yellow fabric is soft, and two tags hang off of it's head. Pausing for a moment, Cor glances at the toddler still on the bed. He finds Prompto rubbing his face against the dry edge of the towel. Mind made up, Cor snaps the tags off and goes to Prompto.

Wrestling him into diapers and a some clothes is hard, but as soon as Cor has a shirt on Prompto he holds the chocobo out to him. Prompto sits still for several moments, eyes darting from the chocobo to Cor and then back to the chocobo. After discerning something from Cor's face, he takes the plush from Cor's hands.

The toddler pets the fabric for a long moment, before burying his face into it. Cor picks him up, and more feels than sees as Prompto rubs his cheek against the plush. He's whispering something, but it's all toddler gibberish that Cor can't understand.

Cor puts Prompto on the floor, before picking up his phone. He has about ten seconds to stare at the message that appeared while he was in the bathroom, before sighing and picking the toddler up again. Prompto coos in confusion as Cor gathers what he needs and heads out the door.

Damn Regis can't even go a full day without something coming up.

* * *

Cor can already tell this conversation won't be a good one. Regis' face is grim, and Clarus isn't even in the room. Whatever it is, Regis doesn't want many to know.

The only good thing is that Regis has a playpen already set up in his office, normally being used by Noctis. Since the prince isn't here, however, Cor carefully lowers Prompto into it. The toddler babbles happily, still clutching the plush in his hands.

"Where do you need me to go?"

Regis glances from Prompto to Cor. The frown on his face deepens.

"Will you be able to go anywhere?" He asks. Cor scowls, and tries to ignore the toddler he can see mimicking him from the corner of his eye. Keeping his face impassive, Cor plops down in front of Regis.

The papers from the lab are still on the desk. 00678233 stares up at him. Already Cor can see Prompto filling out into that face. It leaves a gross feeling at the back of Cor's throat.

"With the new information you've given us we've.... Been able to realize some things," Regis says, "The good news, though, is that I've managed to convince the council to allow a larger recruitment of both Kingsglaive and Crownsguard. I plan on finding every place that makes MTs, and destroying them."

"But you need something done first?"

Regis nods, "We can't recruit without both of our commanders here. We've recently lost contact with the front lines. I need you to get down there and find Drautos."

It's an easy enough mission. Cor has been in the line of fire most of his life, and an escort off the battlefield shouldn't be that hard. Except Prompto chooses that exact moment to babble excitedly to his chocoplush, and suddenly Cor's resolve cracks.

"Kid's only been in his own house for a day," He finds himself saying before his brain can catch up.

"I know that, Cor. If you can't do it, tell me. I can find someone else."

And Cor knows that he will. He knows that Regis will find the next best person and send them out instead, leaving Cor to take care of Prompto. He'll do it as many times as Cor needs him to. Hell, Cor could retire here and now and Regis wouldn't even put up a fuss.

But Cor can't, and even if Regis doesn't know it, Cor does. Slumping slightly in his chair, Cor rubs a hand over his face.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to call Ulric this soon."

A grin appears in Regis' face. It's the same one he used to get when they were traveling. The expression of pure mischief that always sets Cor on edge, because it means his King is about to finagle his way into something he wants.

"He could always stay here, if you'd prefer."

"Hell no."

"Noctis needs a play mate," Regis says like it's the simplest thing in the world, "And once you sign the paper's I've had made up for you, I won't even have to clear him."

At that Cor pauses, glancing back down at the desk. The face of a five year old is still there, but in a neat pile to the side sits an innocent looking stack. The top has large words written on top.

"An adoption form?" He asks.

"Do you _not_ plan on keeping him for good?"

Damn Regis for having him pegged so soon. Sighing, Cor snags a pen off of Regis' desk.

"Hand them over."

Regis' smile softens as he slides the papers to Cor. False dates and fake documents all sit on top of the pile. Cor briefly ponders how fast Regis got everything together, before deciding that he'd rather not know what strings his friend pulled.

"I can call a nanny in to get Prompto. Noctis and him will hopefully get along well."

"Ulric will be over to get him later. I'm not letting you taint Prompto."

Regis pouts, the expression odd on a middle aged man with a beard, "Just a few hours."

Cor glances up from the papers and looks at his King. He gives Regis the flattest look he can. He holds his gaze until Regis crumples in defeat.

"At least let me introduce them?"

"Fine. You have until Nyx gets here."

And with that Regis is jumping up to call the nanny from down the hall. Cor huffs, knowing that Prompto won't go to a strange woman. He tries not to smirk as he hears Prompto squawk at the poor lady, still filling out the form. They struggle for a few minutes behind him while Cor works.

"The beard, Regis."

He more feels than sees Regis pause, before he takes the struggling toddler away from the nanny. Just like that, Prompto calms down.

His King leaves the room, leaving Cor alone with papers that are now declaring Prompto as Cor's son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not a lot of shipping happened. I'm trying to get them some time alone with Prompto before I put Nyx and Cor together. I hoped you still enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

Nyx hopes that his apartment is empty when he gets back, groceries in tow. He wants at least a few minutes alone, some time to just enjoy the peaceful quiet. To just sink into his crappy chair and relax. Maybe even take a nap, those few hours at the Marshal's hardly counting as actual rest.

So naturally, he comes back to find the place already occupied. Crowe is laying on the bed, splayed out in front of the struggling AC. Libertus is by the stove, muttering something under his breath as he digs through the cabinets. All he comes back with is several different bottles of spices.

Sighing, Nyx sets the bags on his table.

"What are you planning, Ostium?"

Libertus looks up, glaring, before his eyes fall on the bags Nyx brought. Lunging forwards, he drags a box of noodles out with a triumphant noise. Within moments he's working on a meal.

"An intervention," He says, snatching some meat from Nyx's hand before he can put it in the fridge, "I want to know what the hell you're doing, volunteering to take care of someone else's kid."

Wincing, Nyx glances back to Crowe, hoping for support, only to find her giving him a calculating look. Nyx leans against the wall with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. His beads click softly as they bounce off each other.

"Look, it was the toddler in the car with us. Blonde."

Libertus gives a small grunt, but the tone of it tells Nyx that isn't what he wants to hear. Nyx watches as he aggressively chops the meat into small chunks before tossing them into a hot skillet. They start sizzling on impact. Soon the entire apartment is filled with the smell.

"Kid's cute, still no excuse to take him in. Does Leonis even know anything about what it means to raise a child with a Galahdian?"

No. Of course not. Cor is a Lucian through and through, not like Galahd. He wouldn't know a thing. That's what makes heat rise to his face, even as he scrubs his eyes roughly.

"It doesn't have to be me inviting him into the village. This is Insomnia. It's different here," Nyx says.

"What do you think the Elders would think, then?" Crowe chimes in, still laying like a lazy cat across Nyx's bed. He gives her his best scowls in response. That's answer enough, though. They all know.

Prompto might be allowed to stay without much fuss. Ever since the Galahdian district was established in Insomnia, there has been some crossover. Parents without children taking in other refugees, friends bonding over shared hardships, even a few official adoptions in the eyes of Galahd. Cor, however, isn't another refugee. He isn't fleeing the empire and leaving behind his burning home.

The Elders would demand he be tested. Would call for a judgment of Ramuh. How would Nyx even begin to explain, to get the King to understand why this is such a big deal. They wouldn't, that's the answer. There's no way they could understand. Insomnia isn't about villages and community, not really. They're chopped into pieces over stupid things like region and ethnicity. None of them are a collective whole like Galahd is.

Groaning, Nyx buries his face in his hands.

"I couldn't just leave Prompto without help. The Marshal had no idea what to do with a toddler," Nyx says, the sound muffled by his palms.

"No idea?"

"No idea," Nyx confirms, "He didn't even know what size of diapers he needed."

Crowe whistles, eyebrows raised in surprise, "Would have thought a man like him already had a wife and kids. Have you seen his face?"

Libertus makes a show of making a loud gagging noise. Nyx snorts, even as he's pushed out of the way so Libertus can put the food on the table. It's spicy, Nyx can tell already. The smell makes his mouth water.

"You didn't go to his apartment. Place looked like a showroom."

"First you offer to take care of his kid, then you go to his home?" Libertus asks, a sly grin suddenly taking over his face, "When should I expect the wedding?"

That's enough for Lib to earn a kick to the shin. He grunts on impact, before his grin gets wider. Sighing, Nyx resigns himself to the teasing he's pretty much guaranteed to endure from now on. Libertus doesn't just forget hearing something like that.

"Look can we just.... Not tell the Elders?" Nyx asks, eyes darting from his best friend to his almost-sister. The two of them exchange a couple looks, before Libertus deflates a little.

"Fine. With how often you train no one will notice, anyways. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Nyx smiles.

"You're the best, Lib."

"Damn right I am."

* * *

The nanny carefully ushers Nyx into a dim, quiet room. This far into the afternoon the citadel is normally bustling with activity, but this floor is completely silent. The reason why is obvious enough.

The Prince is currently taking his nap.

And as Nyx peers over at the bed, he realizes that Prompto is too. The toddlers are curled up around each other, cuddling. Prince Noctis has his face buried in Prompto's hair, blonde fluff laying across his nose and cheeks. Prompto, meanwhile, has the Prince thoroughly pinned underneath him, arms wrapped around Noctis' torso.

It's ungodly cute. Nyx nearly melts at the sight alone. What keeps him composed, however, is the sudden reality of his situation.

Nyx is taking care of a Lucian's child. A Lucian that is so close to the king that said child is allowed to play with the Prince. Is allowed to nap with the Prince. The clearance needed is ridiculous, and Nyx only recently gained with his rise in rank. Even then, he wasn't supposed to be in the room unless it was an emergency, just guarding the door.

Yet here he stands, looking down at two sleeping children.

Glancing at the nanny gives him no help, so instead he reaches in and starts carefully untangling the mess of limbs in the bed. He's nearly finished, just starting to lift Prompto out of the bed, when two different sets of blue eyes snap open at the same time. Nyx freezes, waiting for the inevitable screaming.

Instead he gets a happy noise from Prompto, who proceeds to snuggle up in Nyx's arms. Relaxing slightly, Nyx lays a sleepy Prompto against his shoulder. He's just about to step away when a distressed sound catches his attention.

Noctis is looking up at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can manage - Nyx is struck with the immediate certainty that those eyes could be used as a force of mass destruction at will - and making grabby hands up at the Glaive.

The nanny swoops in, but the moment she starts picking him up he starts crying. Within moments Nyx finds himself with both arms very much full of toddler, and no idea how this happened. He's assured by the nanny that Noctis will get bored in just a few minutes, and that he'll be able to leave soon.

Except a few minutes stretch into nearly an hour and Nyx starts thinking that he might be trapped for the rest of his life.

Then the door opens to reveal the King.

Noctis makes a very happy squeal, loud enough to startle Prompto out of his drooly dozing. Nyx pales slightly, expecting to be chastised for breaking his rank. After all, who wants a lowly Glaive holding the damn Crown Prince.

But Regis just laughs as he takes his son from Nyx's arms, tolerating the face suddenly being buried in his beard with a resigned look reserved only for fathers of small children. He smiles as Prompto eyes him warily, before also begging to be handed over to the King. Just like that, Nyx no longer has two children in his arms, their interest overpowered by the pure temptation that is facial hair.

The King somehow still manages to look dignified with two toddlers making a mess of his beard, babbling something none of them can understand.

"I'm sorry, it seems I stole your charge from you. He seems to agree with Noctis that my hair is the best thing since the bananas they had at lunch," Regis chuckles, bouncing the two softly. They giggle in response, digging finger deeper into his beard.

Nyx meanwhile, is at a loss for words. He flails for a response for a moment, before deciding that he has nothing popping up in his head except for slightly hysterical giggling. He shoves that deep down, and just does his best to smile at the King instead.

Thankfully, Prompto gets bored in just a few minutes. He starts squirming, begging to be let down. Regis instead passes him back to the waiting Glaive. Prompto huffs, face disturbingly close to an expression of Cor's.

"Prompto's chocobo is over on the rocking chair. I don't think he'd appreciate leaving it."

Nyx manages to say a quiet thank you before crossing over to said chair. Sure enough, the yellow plushie Nyx had dropped into their basket yesterday is sitting there. Prompto settles slightly once it's handed to him, cooing something quiet to Nyx.

"Oh, Ulric. You'll want this as well."

Nyx turns around just fast enough to get something dropped into his palm. He doesn't look at it, though, because he's distracted by the distinctly mischievous look on his King's face.

"Please do bring Prompto over for another play date soon. He's welcome any time."

Then and there he decided that he most definitely was not going to take Prompto back here, not when Regis gave him the same expression of a teenager doing something their parents forbid them from.

He still gives a polite smile, "Of course, your majesty."

After that, Nyx proceeds to flee as fast as he can, Prompto in his arms. He gets all the way back to the steps of the citadel before he looks down at the item in his hand.

It's a key, looking eerily similar to the one that Cor had used to open his apartment door yesterday. Nyx twists that around his head for a long moment, before realizing that he doesn't own a single piece of children's furniture. All of what they got yesterday was at Cor's house, clothes and food included.

Which means that Nyx will have to go to Cor's house and either get what he needs, or stay there entirely.

Well.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter. School has been hectic, and I've barely had time to write. I really wanted to get some content out to you guys, though, so here it is. I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the chapter where everything starts turning into major AU territory. Just a quick warning.

Cor should really stop being surprised by how fast things can go to shit. He's seen everything go to hell dozens of times since he first joined the Crownsguard, and it's only gotten worse since he took command. Even Regis acknowledges that Cor tends to be a trouble magnet.

Yet he still doesn't expect to get to the front lines, only to find the base that Drautos is supposed to be at on fire and currently under daemon attack.

Cursing, Cor pulls his katana out of the armiger in a small flash of blue crystals. Within minutes he's joining the battle on the ground.

There's dead bodies scattered everywhere, Kingsglaive staring on with death fogged eyes. Cor cuts all the way to the gates without seeing a single person alive. Just the endlessly vicious monsters still ripping the corpses apart. Miasma fogs up the air as his katana kills the daemons blocking his path.

The inside is only clear because of the already too bright flames fending them off. More bodies greet Cor in the entrance, but there's something wrong with how they look. They don't have the marks of a daemon attack, instead they have the cutting marks of a sword, some even with limbs missing. The Glaive weren't overwhelmed by a large score of daemons. Someone attacked them.

Cor makes his way through the building, carefully avoiding the fires, he doesn't find a single MT body despite the obvious struggle the Glaives put up. Despite the heat, something horribly cold is building in his chest. You don't kill off a whole base without a single casualty, even in a surprise attack. Not against magically enhanced soldiers.

This was an inside job.

Rage has Cor tearing open what doors he can still access, hoping in some twisted way that he finds the one responsible. The obvious saboteur that brought the end to nearly an entire base.

It's luck that makes Cor notice the secret exit in one of the rooms, bookshelf thrown just askew enough for him to pause and see the dark hole behind it. Blood droplets lead to it, and something that looks suspiciously like a smeared hand print marks the wall. Glancing further into the building just shows more flames slowly eating their way through the base. That means that any survivors, traitors or not, are through that door.

The base had been nestled against a cliff, back completely defensible for that exact reason. It only takes Cor a few minutes to realize that the tunnel was leading straight into that exact cliff. Keeping his flashlight off, Cor carefully counts his steps as he makes his way deeper in, mindful of the distance he's going in hopes that he'll be able to find a way out.

Eventually the thin hallway breaks off into a large cavern, a naturally occurring cave. Cor steps behind a stalagmite, pressing his back against the rock for a moment, and listens.

In a place like this he'd expect to hear the chittering of imps, dripping water, maybe even the howling of wind through an exit. Instead he hears the quiet scraping of a sword coming out of it's hilt.

Cor manages to jump out from behind the stalagmite just in time for it to shatter under the force of a greatsword. Reaching a hand up to his chest, Cor turns on the flashlight hooked to his shirt, more interested in being able to see his opponent than keeping in the shadows.

What he finds is the unmistakable twisted armor of General Glauca staring straight at him.

Both of them freeze for the briefest of moments, both in surprise and from the need to reevaluate the situation.

"You aren't supposed to be here, Marshal," Glauca says, breaking the silence of the cavern.

Shifting on his feet slightly, Cor brings his katana up between them in a defensive pose, "I could say the same about you, General."

And just like that, the fight begins.

The flashlight does little to actually illuminate the cavern, so the sparks from their blows to the other's swords send bright flashes into the darkness. Cor's heart is pounding, adrenaline keeping him on his toes enough to avoid a direct hit. The armor must make Glauca stronger, because his hands are already going numb from the glancing shots.

It must make him faster, too, because Cor is barely keeping ahead of the man. For the briefest of moments, he gets a flashback to the Blademaster and the power he held, but then he manages to get a hit between the chinks of the armor. Ripping his katana free reveals flesh and blood, just another man. Not much of a reassurance, but enough to keep him focused.

Only a few moments later, though, Glauca manages his first hit. At full force that greatsword would be enough to cut an unarmored man in half, and for that precise reason Cor has kept close, forcing Glauca to make short defensive swings instead of gaining the momentum needed for a true blow. This time, however, Glauca manages to see him coming. Using one fist, he backhands Cor across the face, sending him sprawling.

Stars burst across Cor's vision, a ringing in his ears. Blood trickles down the side of his head, skin busted open by the force behind that metal armor. By the time he recovers enough, he finds the General already mid swing. He won't have enough time to block, and definitely won't have the strength to properly stop him.

At that exact moment, a blue flash goes through the cavern, and the unmistakable sound of warping echoes against the rocks. Cor barely has a moment to think that somehow Regis followed him here, memories of gaining Royal Arms during their roadtrip overlapping with the present, before Glauca is crying out in pain.

A figure jumps away from the armor, and it only takes a glance for Cor to banish the thought of Regis. A Kingsglaive is now between them, brandishing a dagger at Glauca them like that will somehow keep them safe. One of his arms is bent awkwardly against his stomach, obviously broken. A second dagger sits in the chink between Glauca's neck and shoulder.

Now Cor knows why Glauca was down here in the dark, he was hunting down survivors. Trying to catch the last of the Glaives he had attacked.

The man gives him enough time to once again launch himself at Glauca. He makes as if he's going for another blow with his katana, before banishing the sword into the armiger last minute as Glauca comes up to defend. Using the General's own arm as leverage, Cor reaches up and pulls as hard as he can on the dagger. It makes a sickening sounding squelch as the flesh underneath releases the blade.

Before Glauca can get away or attack Cor once again, he reaches into the armiger at random. He comes back with one of Regis' swords, long and sharp. With all the force he can muster, Cor slams down into that already exposed hole that the dagger left behind, angling it slightly. Cor feels the reverberations of snapping bones through the hilt. Glauca jerks beneath him, a noise that sounds far from human filtering through the helmet. Kicking away, Cor hits the ground in a hard roll, jostling his shoulder in a way that he hates in a fight.

Pulling his katana out once again, he twists towards the General, prepared to fend off another blow despite his still pounding head and newly hurt shoulder.

Only to watch as the armored man falls to his knees, gurgling behind his helmet. He claws at the sword helplessly for a few moments before fully collapsing on the ground, still. For several long minutes, there's no sound except for Cor's panting and the quiet pained gasping of the Glaive.

Once it becomes clear that Glauca isn't going to get back up again, Cor allows himself a moment to lower himself to the ground. Now that he allows himself to acknowledge it, his entire body aches in the way that only a rough fight can produce.

He could have died.

It's not a new experience, one doesn't get the nickname of The Immortal for nothing, but something about it the realization doesn't sit the way it normally does. Searching his mind, Cor finds the answer in blonde hair, blue eyes, and tiny hands. Cor would have left behind Prompto, barely able to parent the kid before leaving him orphaned. What would have happened then? Cor thinks that Regis would have taken him in, maybe Clarus, but a nagging voice keeps reminding him of Nyx Ulric, the man who is already taking care of his child.

Though, maybe he's just thinking of Nyx because he's staring as another Kingsglaive starts trying to tear the helmet off of Glauca's body. He doesn't get very far with only one good arm. Without thinking too much on it, he forces himself up to help. With their combined efforts they manage to pry the metal away from the dead man's face.

Seeing Captain Drautos' now glazed over eyes is almost a blow in itself. The Kingsglaive had been established for six years now, and Drautos at it's head the whole time. General Glauca, though, had been fighting for the Empire for almost eight. Could it really be called betrayal if they were never loyal in the first place?

The Glaive next to him makes a noise like a dying animal, tilting back on his heels and falling to the ground. His good hand finds his already messy hair, burying itself into the dark curls as he presses his forehead into his knees. Blood splatters his face, and Cor can't tell if it belongs to the man or not.

"I-.... I saw him change into the armor. Didn't want to believe it. Told myself it was my brain messing with me. I don't-"

"What's your name, soldier?" Cor interrupts, breaking the Glaive from what would inevitably become a panic attack. He blinks up at Cor, seemingly confused for a moment.

"Pelna, sir. Pelna Khara."

"You the only one down here, Khara?"

Pelna shakes his head. That's enough to get Cor fully back on his feet, stepping away from the body.

"Come on then. We need to get them, and find a way out of here."

Mutely Pelna nods, forcing himself back up on shaky legs. He leads the way, Cor's flashlight illuminating the space enough to properly navigate.

This has gotten a lot more complicated than just an escort mission.

* * *

Shoving open the door, Cor strides into the Council meeting without pause. The guards at the door jump a little, but relax when they recognize the Marshal. Cor briefly notes one of them as the Glaive that came in while he was at Nyx's apartment, Ostium.

Regis seems relieved to see Cor, until he finds Pelna following behind him instead of Drautos. In seconds his kingly mask is on, hiding the Cor's friend behind the title.

"Marshal, what happened? Not only are you later than projected, but the Captain is not with you."

Cor doesn't say anything for a long moment, still walking until he gets to the center of the room. He carefully scans the faces of the council, before settling his gaze on Regis, Clarus right behind him.

"General Glauca is dead," He says, pulling the helmet out of the armiger to show to the room. Cor can see Pelna flinch slightly from the corner of his eye. The room erupts into whispers, and more than once Cor can hear his own name in them. He waits for silence before he continues.

"Drautos was Glauca. He was a traitor, and now he's dead."

For one second there's no sound except for the leftover ringing of his voice. Then, like a bomb dropped, everyone explodes into speech. Cor only manages to catch parts of it, disbelief, anger, shock, and even a few grumblings on how refugees couldn't be trusted in positions of power, and this was proof. Both Cor and Pelna bristle at that one, but before anyone can get violent, Regis raises a hand.

The chamber falls silent. Regis' face is impassive, but Cor can see the pain in his eyes. The crushing realization that someone he had trusted had turned their back on Lucis. It's not something that Cor likes to see.

"Do you have something to corroborate this claim, Marshal?" He asks, emphasizing his rank slightly. A reminder for everyone there exactly where Cor stands on the pecking order, and how they also fall on it. Its enough for some of the more bristling members to subside a bit.

"I have seven different witnesses, but only one is currently well enough to be out of the hospital at the moment," Cor says, tilting his head towards Pelna. People suddenly seem to notice the bandage on Cor's head, and the sling holding the Glaive's arm to his torso. More whispers dart above them.

Pelna squares his shoulders and steps forward, bowing best he can with the sling in place.

"Any questions you have, majesty, I'll be glad to answer."

Regis' eyes soften in the way that they do when he feels regret for something - Though what exactly Cor cannot place at this moment - before speaking, "Then please, Glaive Khara, start from the beginning."

* * *

Four hours and nineteen minutes. That's how long Cor had to stand in the Council Room until Regis finally called an end to the meeting. He manages to get to his office uninterrupted afterwards, grabbing the extra clothes he keeps there, and making his way into the barracks for a quick shower before heading home. His brain is buzzing, he barely got any sleep on the way back to Insomnia. Still too wired up from the betrayal, and then the responsibility of transporting more than half a dozen injured Glaives back.

He manages to get all the way into his apartment before realizing that it's not empty. Instinct has him reaching into the armiger before a happy squeal breaks off that action before it even starts. In seconds a bright yellow blur collides with his legs.

Prompto is staring up at him, eyes much to wide and happy to handle. He's in a onesie made to look like a chocobo, bird legs and all. Cor leans down and picks him up before he registers the smell of cooking food in the apartment.

Turning the corner he finds Nyx in the kitchen, tongs in hand as he fries some noodles. He glances at Cor, then has to do a double take, pausing in his stirring.

"Marshal. You're back."

Cor stands there for a few minutes, looking over the scene with some interest. Nyx is in pajamas, much like Prompto is, saying they probably didn't even bother trying to get dressed today, given no sane person would dress a toddler for bed before feeding them supper. He's got ingredients scattered all around the counters, and when he glances into the living room, Cor can see the duffel bag sitting next to the couch.

He had given Regis his key before leaving, and his King at least listened when Cor asked him to deliver it to Nyx. Really, it wasn't an issue to come in and find Ulric taking care of his kid. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was surprised. He had expected the Glaive to just grab Prompto some clothes and take him back to the Galahdian district, given his earlier skittish behavior.

But here he stands, flour smeared across his shirt and face with noodles sizzling in a pan.

Cor's mouth tilts up, just slightly, as he tucks Prompto closer.

"Your noodles are going to burn, if you keep staring at me."

And just like that, Nyx jumps right back into movement with what can only be a curse in Galahdian. Prompto giggles at him, pressing his cheek up against Cor's beard as he watches the Glaive work at saving the meal.

Somewhere, in some part of his brain, Cor finds that he actually likes the fact that he came home to someone, even if they were just his kid and a man he barely knew. He didn't allow himself to ponder about it, though, before Nyx was piling the food onto three separate plates. For just a few minutes, at least, he'll let himself enjoy this without ruining it with his thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just update twice in less than twenty four hours? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

Nyx tries to keep his face impassive as they eat. There's no way that Cor knows Galahdian customs, and thus he has no way of knowing the significance of someone cooking for you in Galahd. Aside from obvious exceptions, like bars and restaurants, family are the only ones that share food like this. That was fine and dandy when at home, because practically everyone was family, but since moving to Insomnia the Elders have gotten a lot stricter on who can make food for who.

Cor isn't family, obviously, but what the Elders don't know won't hurt them. Besides, Nyx was careful to feed Prompto first. That way, if somehow caught, he could say he's inviting Prompto into his family and Cor only gets fed by proxy. It would still cause a fuss, but not near as much as if he'd given Cor the first serving.

Besides, the other Glaives love Prompto enough to vouch for him. The few times he'd gone to train in the two weeks Cor had been gone, he'd found himself with several babysitters on hand. Prompto had given each of them a skeptical look, but then he'd seen Libertus' stubble that he called a beard, and suddenly Prompto was just fine being handed off to a stranger. Only a few minutes of that, and Prompto seemed to realize that he quite liked the attention given to him.

But that was nothing compared to how much he's enjoying Cor's attention right now. Leonis had stripped Prompto of his chocobo outfit before they started eating, but the moment he tried to put the boy in his high chair he'd started crying. So now he sits proudly on Cor's lap, tearing into his food like he's starving, which he most definitely isn't because Nyx kept giving him snacks all day.

Cor meanwhile, seems to be eating with nearly as much fervor. Nyx fights to keep himself from blushing, pleased with how the other man is enjoying his cooking despite himself. Chastising himself lightly in his head, Nyx tries to blame Cor's hunger on the obvious fact that he's been traveling and probably hasn't gotten much to eat in that time. It doesn't help much.

Nyx forces himself to eat, finding that much of his appetite is gone despite being decently hungry earlier. He keeps glancing up at Cor, still trying to force his brain from whispering the implications at him. He can barely taste the noodles.

Now that he's looking, though, he can see just how rough the man looks. It wasn't nearly this bad when he brought home Prompto. This time he has dark circles underneath his eyes, and an obviously freshly changed gauze pad on the side of his head. When he investigates just a little more, he sees the now fading bruise under it.

He doesn't know what mission Cor was sent on, but he does know that that the King reserves only the most important or dangerous tasks to him. People on the street sometimes whisper about it, calling him the King's Sword. Nyx had always thought giving the man just another title was stupid, but had to begrudgingly admit that it fit rather well after meeting the man for the first time when Nyx had just joined the Kingsglaive at sixteen.

Prompto finishes quickly, having ate practically the whole plate that Nyx made him. It's only impressive because how big the serving had been. He takes this opportunity to put his hands in Cor's beard, greasy fingers running through the untrimmed hair. Nyx winces in sympathy, having learned three days ago what happens when you give a toddler syrup, and just how messy they can get.

"I uh.... I can give him a bath, if you-"

"No!" Prompto yells, giving Nyx a glare that looks eerily similar to one Nyx has seen on Cor's face before. He tightens his grip on Cor's beard, as if daring Nyx to try and pull him away.

Face softening slightly, Nyx gives Prompto a small smile before shifting his gaze to Cor, "I'll clean up the kitchen, since it seems like you're on child duty."

Cor, who had paused once Prompto had loudly declared his decision, gives Nyx the barest of smiles back. It doesn't quite send butterflies through his chest, but it still feels good considering all that Nyx has seen of the man's range of emotion so far.

"So long as you remember to wipe down your own face in the process," He responds before shoving another mouthful of noodles into his mouth. Nyx instinctively reaches up to check his face, only to come back with flour on is fingers. He finally loses his battle with blushing.

Nyx excuses himself from the table, going back into the kitchen to get to work, and absolutely not to try and hide his embarrassment. After that it takes him half an hour to get all the ingredients back in their places and the counters wiped down. By the time he goes back to the table, Cor is gone with Prompto, and he can hear the bath running. So he gathers up the leftovers and goes back to the kitchen.

He has all the food wrapped up and in tupperware before he realizes that the fridge still has several different foods that Nyx had made the last few days in it. There's no way for Nyx to take it home without stealing Cor's tupperware, which means he made _more than one meal for_ -

Nope. Nyx cuts himself off before thinking too hard on that. Instead he gets all the dishes in the sink, and scrubs them as aggressively as possible. The apartment is quiet by the time Nyx is finished. Cor must be asleep. So Nyx grabs his bag, and goes to change in the bathroom. The floor is still wet from what must have been a lot of enthusiastic splashing on Prompto's part. Smiling softly to himself, Nyx gets himself presentable enough to make the late bus ride back to the Galahdian district.

"Nyx," Cor says, right as the Glaive is nearly out the door. Nyx jumps slightly, whirling around to find the man at the end of the hall, a very sleepy Prompto in his arms. How he managed to walk that far without making a sound and alerting Nyx, he has no clue.

"You can stay, you know," He says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"I'm fine. I don't want to freeload off you any more."

"You were taking care of Prompto. You can hardly call that freeloading."

"Well," Nyx insists, "I'm not taking care of him anymore. I don't want to intrude too much."

Cor frowns, and the expression doesn't seem quite right after seeing his borderline relaxed face earlier. He doesn't argue any further, though, so Nyx takes this as his chance to leave. Mindful of the still sleeping Prompto, Nyx slowly closes the door with a soft click.

The bus ride is oddly uneventful for nearly eight in the evening. It's enough to get him relaxed as he gets off at his stop, descending the stairs into the Galahdian district. Here, at least, it's still loud. Lights are on in stores, and restaurants are filled with laughing customers. If he allows himself to shift just a little bit away from the present, Nyx almost feels like he's back home.

At least until he climbs the stairs into his apartment building. Most of it is still empty, the other Glaives still deployed, and the lower floors are the only ones with any sounds filtering down the halls. Nyx is carefully sorting through his key ring as he climbs the last flight, getting is apartment key in hand.

Only to look up and find three people in the hallway already. Crowe and Libertus are talking to someone in hushed tones, and when they shift slightly, Nyx can make out some familiar mussed hair.

"Pelna?" He asks, surprised. Last he'd heard, the other was still at the base where they'd last said goodbye. When Crowe moves out of the way, though, it becomes obvious enough why he's home so early.

His arm is wrapped tightly against his torso, both a soft cast and a sling in place to keep it secure. His face is wan, and something in his expression sends a leaden stone dropping through Nyx's stomach. Glancing at Libertus and Crowe paints just as grim of a picture.

"What happened?"

The three of them glance between each other for a moment, seemingly deciding who's job it was to drop the news. Libertus apparently loses because he lets out a frustrated little groan, scrubbing at his face with both hands for a couple seconds. He opens his mouth.

And he tells Nyx everything.

* * *

The training rooms the next morning are abandoned, most of the Glaive spending the day mourning their lost comrades, and fearing for their futures. That's the exact reason Nyx had sought the place out. He needed somewhere quiet to think and let out steam.

Yet he stands right in the center of a sparring ring, kukri in hand, doing nothing. The silence almost seems worse, until Nyx remembers Pelna's face when Libertus had retold what had happened, what exactly Cor had been doing and discovered. He can't see that right now, can't look the betrayal in the face like he should.

Maybe coming to the Citadel wasn't the best idea. Most of Nyx's memories of the Dautos - Glauca - were here. Almost four years worth. Never, not once, had Nyx ever guessed. Why would he? He was the loyal Captain of the Kingsglaive, another immigrant like them.

An immigrant that turned on his people and helped the very place that destroyed all their homes.

Ramuh strike him down. Nyx's stomach twists so much that he thinks he might be sick. His hand is clutched so tightly around the hilt of his kukri that it's shaking softly with both his rage, and his deep explicable sorrow.

And Nyx _hates_ that. Hates that he's mourning a traitor along with his comrades. That he's upset over the loss of a man who's entire personality was probably a front meant to fool them, the King, everyone.

The door to the room opens, and Nyx doesn't know who he expected to walk through, but it wasn't Cor. His beard is carefully trimmed now, bags gone from under his eyes. The gauze is also gone, but now he can see the nasty scab now formed there, just another reminder to what happened. The Marshal crosses the room as if he doesn't have a care in the world, as if Nyx isn't still holding a weapon tightly in his hand. He stops just in front of the Glaive, face impassive.

"The Council is in an uproar. They're beyond furious, and the King finally gave into some of their demands this morning and called back those still deployed to other bases. He wants you all here now that we've learned what's happened."

More like he wants them all back so that he can start needling through the ranks, searching for another spy. After all, it wouldn't have been hard for Glauca to find another person discontent with the current government. Nearly half of the Galahdian district alone is unhappy. Just how much work would it have been for him to recruit one of that population?

Cor must see what he's thinking on his face, because he works at his jaw minutely before once again speaking, "Some members are calling for the entirety of the Kingsglaive to be disbanded, saying having a fighting force filled with immigrants is the exact reason this happened in the first place."

At that Nyx can't help but laugh. It's grating, echoing horribly in the empty room. He's known from the beginning just how the nobles feel about refugees in 'their' city. He's seen the way they sneer and turn their noses up at the sight of beads woven through hair, of warriors marked with tattoos instead of metals. Got front row seats to it, in fact.

"And just how do you feel, Marshal?" He asks, hating how broken his voice sounds, "What do you think should be done."

"I think that you should be evaluated as a new possible commander of the Kingsglaive."

Nyx is struck silent, gaping quietly at the man in front of him.

"Everyone with a higher rank than Lieutenant was killed by Glauca. He'd purposely gathered all the other high ranking officers so that he could cripple the Glaive," Cor explains, "I just spent the last four hours searching through all the different files of the remaining Kingsglaive. You are by far the best candidate, both through your feats on the field, and in personal character."

He says it so matter of factly, like he isn't Cor the fucking Immortal complimenting a random, young, Kingsglaive he'd only had his first conversation with less than a month ago. Nyx doesn't even know what to say.

"Of course, I'll need to personally test you first."

Blink.

"What?"

"I'll need to see your skills first hand. You're already prepared for a sparring match. Get in position, and we'll start."

Then he moves, heading down to one side of the gym before turning, pulling that sharp ass katana of his from the armiger. He stays standing impressively stoically for a long moment, before raising a single eyebrow at Nyx. 

It suddenly strikes him that Cor is waiting for him to make the first move. So before he can think about it too much, before he can register just how stupid of an idea this is, he raises up his kukri, and he throws it. His stomach lurches as he warps, first blow parrying off of Cor's sword even as he bounces back and once again out of range.

He makes it maybe two hours into the fight, panting and now sporting several bruises, before he realizes exactly what Cor had done. He'd found Nyx a distraction, a way to let loose all his emotions without being swept away by the tides. It's infuriating, but only because Nyx can't seem to come up with words to thank him for it, even as he rolls out of the way of another blow.

By the time that Nyx finally loses, they're both sweaty and gross, and Nyx is more tired than he's been in months, but it's a _good_ sensation. Gasping for air, Nyx takes the offered hand from Cor and lets himself be raised off the padded floor and back to his feet. Despite everything, Cor somehow still manages to still look completely unruffled. Nyx would be impressed, if it didn't make him want to squirm in a pleasant sort of discomfort.

"If you're willing, I can have Regis draft the papers in the morning," He offers, giving Nyx one last chance to back out.

And really, Nyx should take that chance. He should run for the hills and never look back. Yet something in Cor's eyes has Nyx pausing enough to stop and think. Before he knows it, he's nodding.

"Can't be worse than being a Lieutenant, right?"

That earns him an almost smile from Cor, and Nyx pointedly ignores the butterflies that pop up from such a simple expression.

"Then hopefully I'll see you here tomorrow, Commander."

Then with that, Cor turns around and exits the training hall, leaving Nyx all alone with his thoughts once more. Somehow, though, the weight of them isn't crushing anymore. As if Cor has just taken it all away.

It ends up on the newly started list of things Cor Leonis gave Nyx that he's grateful for. Nyx doesn't think that list will stop growing anytime soon. He can't seem to bring any part of himself to be upset about that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished Pitioss, and that was a hell I'd never thought I'd go through. Anyways, enjoy.

Cor absolutely refuses to leave Prompto with Noctis for more than an hour or two at a time. Not because the Prince isn't a sweet boy, but because that is what Regis wants Cor to do. It's his King's way of trying to finagle Cor into spending more time at the Citadel with him, as well as giving his son a constant playmate. Cor loves Regis, the man is practically his brother, but he also refuses to give into his demands by default.

So that is how Cor finds himself walking into the Amicitia estate at an ungodly early hour, with a very much still asleep Prompto in his arms.

There is a Council meeting at eight this morning, meant to once again discuss Drautos' betrayal as well as the future of the Kingsglaive. Cor had been allowing those little princely playdates during his work, even once allowing it to go on for nearly three hours - Much to Regis' delight - when sparring with Nyx, but the meeting today would take far too long. He would have called Nyx to watch the boy, but he will be there too.

Clarus, seeing Cor's dilemma, had offered to let Prompto stay with his son today. Naturally, Cor accepted that offer immediately. If that exchange just so happened to be in front of a pouting Regis, well, Cor was allowed to have motives other than a need for childcare.

The Amicitia household is just as beautiful as usual. Iris flowers decorate the halls, the several pots of them already in bloom this early into spring. It leaves the halls smelling softly floral, and gives some color to a house otherwise mostly decorated by Clarus' ancestors before him. If the flowers just so happened to be one Lady Amicita's favorites, Cor wasn't one to judge Clarus' decisions on how to make his wife happy.

Jared greets Cor at the entrance to Gladiolus' rooms. Cor's normally impassive face softens at the sight of the man, memories surfacing of Cor's first few years in the Crownsguard. Clarus had viewed Cor as a kid, but he was strict about it, trying to stop Cor from doing adult things like fighting. Jared on the other hand almost seemed to pretend otherwise, until he handed Cor a stash of candy he'd kept just for Cor. It left Cor with fond feelings for the man.

"So the rumors are true, you did end up with a child," Jared says, looking at the toddler currently splayed out on Cor's chest and shoulder. He gives Cor a smile after a moment before ushering him into the room. Gladiolus is still asleep as well, the four and a half year old curled up on his bed. Cor watches as Jared puts blankets on the beanbag stuffed into the corner, before gesturing to Cor.

Ever so carefully he lays the boy down on the makeshift bed. Prompto makes a small noise of protest, but falls back into a proper sleep once Cor slips the chocobo plush into his arms. He slowly moves backwards once it's clear that the blonde won't wake up. Jared watches with a mildly amused look as they leave the room, shutting the door with a barely audible click.

"He'll be perfectly fine here today. Gladiolus has been begging for a playmate for months now, anyways."

"I know," Cor responds, "Clarus has been complaining."

Jared shakes his head slightly, before shooing Cor out of the hall. Normally Cor would protest, but in all honesty he needs to be leaving anyways. So mind back on the present, he hunts down Clarus in his office. He finds the other man carefully fastening the last of his raiment. Not for the first time, Cor is thankful that he isn't expected to wear such complicated clothing. He just had to show up in his dress uniform.

"Will you insist on driving me, Cor?" Claris asks without looking up from deftly buttoning one of the layers in place. He has a small smile, though, forming on his lips. It's an old joke, one from their trip years ago. Then Cor had been only fifteen, but that didn't stop him from taking the wheel.

Definitely doesn't stop him now, either, "You're a horrible driver, Amicitia. Remember the tonberry incident?"

Clarus' grin says he does. His hands finally fall as the last pieces are secured, and he falls perfectly into the image of a Shield. He looks Cor over for a moment, before seemingly realizing something.

"Is Prompto already with Gladiolus?"

"Yes. They're both still asleep."

He hums softly, before gesturing to Cor to lead the way out. Happily obliging, Cor takes them to his car, pointedly getting in the drivers side. The sun is barely in the sky at this point, but they need to get to the Citadel early. It isn't good form for two of the highest ranking people in Insomnia to be anything less. Not that Cor cares about his own image, but what he does reflects on both Regis and Clarus, so he endures the more annoying parts of his job for them.

The pale sky is replaced with concrete as they delve underground, a tunnel meant to be a shortcut from the Amicitia estate to the Citadel. Clarus looks away from the side window as they enter it, instead turning towards Cor. Suddenly Cor realizes that he's trapped in a small space with a man he calls a brother, and really that never brings anything good.

"You seem to have a strange attachment to Nyx Ulric."

Cor wants to curse. Of course this is what Clarus wants to talk about. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Cor silently urges the speed limit to somehow get faster to end this sooner.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Really?" Clarus prods, "Then you don't find it odd that you let this man watch your child, gave him a key to your apartment, and not even a week ago told us that you plan to endorse him as the new leader of the Kingsglaive? You'd tell me this isn't completely out of character for you?"

Cor fights the urge to snarl, forcing his lips to do nothing but turn downwards.

"And who's asking, Clarus or Regis?" He asks, because that distinction needs to be made. Cor can't even count the number of times Regis has sent Clarus to ask of things just for the sake of meddling.

"I'm asking. Regis is just glad that your finally settling down."

Cor slams on the break, completely ignoring Clarus' startled yell as they're jerked to a stop.

"Will we keep talking about this, or will you be walking?"

Clarus raises an eyebrow, giving Cor a look that he's seen a lot of over the years, "Will you at least tell me why you trust the man?"

It's a reasonable request, one probably founded on concern instead of meddling. Hell, Cor would be asking the same thing if he was in Clarus' place. The only problem is that Cor isn't quite sure of the answer himself. With a grumble they start moving again, and Cor tries to come up with something that sounds convincing.

Nyx is a good man. That at least, Cor is absolutely certain of. But knowing someone is a good person and trusting them are two different things. Maybe it's Prompto, then, that's influencing Cor. After all, the toddler is obsessed with Nyx. In the last week alone Cor had to take him to see Nyx on three separate occasions. Nyx is good with Prompto, too. Gentle in a way that clashes very heavily with the ferocity he showed in their spar.

That's another factor to consider. Cor sparred with him, something he doesn't do with anyone other than Regis and Clarus anymore. No one else can keep up with him. Yet Cor had been willing to sacrifice his own comfort for the sake of pulling Nyx out of whatever hole he was left in, and found himself pleasantly surprised instead of disappointed. Cor had been considering him as a successor to Drautos before that, though.

The more Cor thinks about it, the more he runs himself in circles. There's just no real explanation. Just an gut feeling that keeps drawing him back to the Galahdian.

The car ride remains silent the rest of the way. Cor parks, locking the door as they get out despite knowing it won't be stolen here. Looking at Clarus has him finding the other man already watching him, expectant. Scowling, Cor starts heading up the stairs.

"I know better than to question my instincts at this point," He says, "Alright?"

Clarus doesn't respond, but he doesn't pry anymore either, so Cor takes it.

The next couple hours are quiet as they prepare for the meeting. Regis goes through documents, Clarus helps him, and Cor works on the security detail. He makes a point to call in a Glaive for guard duty, their duties having been temporarily passed over to Cor while they wait to decide the fate of the fighting force. He hopes it'll help sway some of the fence sitters on the Council, a physical reminder that not every single one of the Kingsglaive are traitors.

Eventually, though, he has to get up and make his way into the Council room. Several members are already there, dressed in fine clothes to hide their not so fine personalities. Honestly, Cor tolerates only a couple people in this room, and it will likely remain that way for quite a while. Regis was still weeding out the bad eggs leftover from Mors' rule, and everyone else vying for the positions are just as vile. The only saving grace is that they still have to go through the King to get anything passed, and Regis is doing a commendable job of stonewalling all of them.

One thing that raises Cor's mood, though, is the man that walks through the door just a few minutes in. Nyx is in his dress uniform, a rare sight indeed for a Kingsglaive. Every button is carefully done and painstakingly made to look presentable. His beads stand out against the matte fabric, reflecting the light now pouring in through the large windows.

Cor has to tear his gaze away from the Glaive, unable to identify why he was staring in the first place. He makes the mistake, however, of looking to Regis when he does so. He finds poorly hidden delight on his King's face, and Cor fights the urge to glare at him in front of so many people. He loses. If anyone notices, they don't point it out.

He gets plenty of time to keep glancing at Nyx though as the meeting properly starts. Of course it begins with the alarming implications of Drautos' betrayal, and the several operations that the Empire could already be a hold of. Nyx's hands fold into fists, but his face remains remarkably impassive. Cor pins it on his training as a guard.

Then the conversation drifts to the military implications of Niflheim losing their general. That is a topic that Cor is glad to give his input on, using short and to the point sentences. Every time he interrupts a Council member they sputter and look to Regis. Their King, however, does nothing to chide his Marshal.

At the three hour mark it becomes clear that Nyx is trying hard not to fidget, and Cor very much agrees with him. This is the exact reason Cor skips out on most of the meetings in the first place. How Regis has the patience for it, Cor has no idea.

The last topic is on the Kingsglaive, and of course it quickly becomes volatile.

"Your Majesty, the best option would truly be to disband the Kingsglaive as a whole. They're a dangerous and unpredictable group filled with immigrants of which we have no idea of the background they came from," One member, Lord Gallus if Cor's memory is correct, says. Both Nyx and the Glaive at the door stiffen in response, but noticeably stay still and quiet.

Several other people echo this statement, all touting concern with thinly veiled xenophobia just underneath. Regis remains impassive, as is his job as King, but Cor is finding it increasingly hard to stay quiet. It all tips the scales when one of them make a particularly pointed comment about the trustworthiness of 'foreign' soldiers, and Cor sees Nyx hide a flinch.

"And do tell me, Councilwoman Albani, what exactly do you know about soldiers and how to recruit them?"

She cuts off mid rant, looking wide eyed at Cor. When she doesn't say anything immediately, Cor stands up to take the floor. She opens her mouth again to protest, but something in Cor's face must scare her because she sits down after just a few seconds.

"So far," Cor starts, "I have yet to see a single good argument against keeping the Kingsglaive running. Of course we background check, we do the same with _elementary students_ coming in to tour the Citadel. The recruitment system isn't based off of region, anyways. People that can properly wield the King's magic are rare, and we use whoever is willing to volunteer.

"It's becoming increasingly obvious to me that none of you who have spoken have any idea how a military force works at all. I saw better under King Mors Council. Being safe and sound under the Wall for so many years has left you disillusioned with reality."

Several people shift uncomfortably at Cor's words, including Regis himself. Such often happens when Mors Lucis Caelum is mentioned. Yet the insult does it's job at embarrassing the members who were puffed up like peacocks just minutes before.

"And your problem with 'foreign' soldiers, Lady Albani, is a moot point unless you speak of the Tenebraen refugees we currently have in service. Last I checked, regions like Galahd are still considered part of Lucis."

Cor finally finishes, relishing for a moment in the echoing silence left behind. Clarus is across from him, pinching his nose slightly. Regis, on the other hand, is looking like he's trying very hard to not laugh at his Council member's plight.

"And what do you suggest we do about it, Marshal?"

Cor gestures to Nyx, and the Glaive stands up extra straight as the whole room turns to look at him. Already Cor can see several people hiding sneers as they gaze at the beads in his hair and tattoos on his face. Cor has to remind himself that he already made his point, and instead focuses on making his endorsement look appealing to those left undecided.

"Currently there is no one left of high rank to take command of the Kingsglaive. So I went through the remaining members and chose those who I thought most suited. From that list I pulled Nyx Ulric. After testing him personally, I decided that he is the best choice for the position."

Whispers echo through the chamber for a moment before Clarus speaks, "And how do you know they'll follow him? Drautos was well respected before he was revealed as Glauca, and not just anyone can control a group after something like that."

At that Cor looks to the other Glaive currently on guard duty. She stiffens as she realizes that he is asking her to step forward. She comes to stand just behind Nyx, doing a less commendable job of remaining strong under scrutiny.

"How would you say the Kingsglaive as a whole feel about Nyx Ulric?" He asks. She fidgets slightly, and when she speaks it becomes obvious why she's so nervous, a Leidean accent coloring the words. Several of the Council members scoff at the sound of it.

"Lieutenant Ulric is very popular, sir," Her eyes dart up to Regis, then back to Cor, before moving down to the floor, "Some people even refer to him as Hero cause how often he puts himself on the line for us on the field."

With that she steps back. Cor had of course already known all of that, having dug for some time before making his decision, but him presenting it wouldn't have been convincing. Already some of the fence sitters are looking at Nyx with new interest. What might be blush is dusted over Nyx's cheeks, but Cor forces himself to look away before he gets too distracted.

"And would you be training him in his duties as a commander, if we do indeed leave the Kingsglaive intact?"

"Of course, your Majesty."

"If that is the case then," Regis says, a sparkle in his eyes, "I move that the Council votes on it's decision, then I'll make mine."

No one objects. In just a few minutes votes are cast, and Regis stands up from his throne. The room is hushed as he looks down at the Glaive still before him.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Captain Ulric."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping, so if you see any egregious errors, please tell me in the comments and I'll fix it.

Nyx is heavily fighting the urge to slam his head against the desk and hoping it gives him a concussion bad enough he won't be expected to work anymore.

Of course, though, he knows that won't happen. So instead Nyx grits his teeth and goes back to filling out one of the many repetitive forms he's expected to complete. This one is something about proper accommodations for some of the newly recruited Glaive Nyx had picked out just a week prior. It's important work, Nyx knows, but he doesn't understand why _everything_ has to be put in writing. Of course those who move into the barracks will be given meal tickets, why does someone have to sign off on basic necessities?

Said recruitment has been the only bright spot of the past three weeks. A day where he finally gets out of Drautos' old office (not his, Nyx can't even think about his promotion yet, never mind the implications of it), and spending time with the other Glaives. Yet even that didn't sit right, people referring to him by rank. If Cor hadn't have been there, he would have told them to stop.

Cor, Nyx supposes, has been his saving grace. Patiently sitting at Nyx's desk and explaining everything that needed to be done, showing him how, and even pushing him to take breaks when Nyx got too frustrated. Nyx had even gotten the barest hints of a smile out of him when he asked why Insomnians had to make everything so complicated. Cor had told him he didn't know why either. Yet Nyx keeps going back to that conversation.

Like he is now. He can see Cor's face in his minds eye, and it's slowly but surely driving Nyx insane.

He's screwed, and he knows it.

Groaning, Nyx presses his face into his hands, just sitting in silence. If he lets his mind wander, he can see Cor at that damned council meeting, defending the Glaive like they were his people and not just some random immigrants that happen to work for his King. He can also see how Cor's eyes had kept straying to him throughout the whole thing. Just thinking about it sends heat to his face.

What the hell is he going to do?

Nyx can't just back out of Cor's life now. No. Gods, at this point he _owes_ Cor to stick around. Cor treated him like family, and if Nyx admits it to himself, he treated Cor like family too. Slept in his house, watched his kid, _cooked_ for him. Nyx might as well have declared him an honorary Ulric. Of course, though, declairing someone family and the emotion pooling in Nyx's chest are two different things.

That doesn't matter to the Elders though.

It feels like he was just dunked into ice water. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Nyx tries to not think about that eventuality. Eventually being the proper word, because there's no way that Nyx can keep everything secret for much longer. He can just imagine what kind of hell they'll raise once they realize that Nyx is - Fraternizing? No. Nyx can't even find the right word for it. - with an outsider.

Cor is called The Immortal, but anyone from Galahd can attest to how little that word means. Not compared to the harshness of their home. Even the most vicious of of beasts, of people, will eventually bend or break. Rahmuh's judgment is supposed to be a way to prove just how worthy a person is, show that they can survive in Galahd.

But even the strongest can die in the Trial.

It's not something Nyx is willing to just leave up to luck. Not when he's thinking of blonde hair and blue eyes. _More_ than one pair of blue eyes, if he's honest with himself. Not that Nyx doesn't love Prompto, and would hate for the boy to be orphaned, but the idea of Cor just leaving and not coming back....

The best thing Nyx could do for Cor is to back out right now and not ever cross those lines again. Keep a distance between them, let Prompto be the only thing that connects them. Stop the Marshal from influencing his life any further.

Yet Nyx knows that he can't do it.

Perhaps that's the worst part of this whole thing, in the end.

* * *

His air conditioner had gone off sometime in the day, leaving Nyx's apartment stuffy and the air inside stale when he gets home. Sighing, he goes to hit the machine a few times until it kicks back in. Eventually it putters to life, giving some much needed circulation.

It's a familiar ritual, and soon Nyx finds himself settling back into his usual routine. Kicking off his boots, Nyx presses a hand against the picture of his mother and sister for the briefest of moments before moving to the bathroom. The well worn feeling of it all has Nyx relaxing faster than anything else could.

The water is ice cold when Nyx washes his face in the sink, despite the heat outside. It's one of the many, many things wrong with this building. The water never got warm, only half the stove works, and the plaster is slowly peeling off the walls. It's home.

Running his sink attracts attention, though. Within minutes his door is being opened, admitting Libertus in all his assholish glory.

"Home already, Captain?"

Nyx looks up and gives Lib the flattest look that he can muster. All he gets in return is a grin. Poking Nyx's shin with is foot, Libertus leans against the door frame to the bathroom. With a sigh, Nyx goes back to cleaning himself up after a day at work.

"What do you want, Ostium?" He asks.

"Come to the bar. Have some fun."

"I have work to do."

"Tomorrow is a Saturday. You still get those off with the rest of us," Libertus says, "Come on. You've been twisting yourself into a ball of stress. Just come hang out with everyone."

The everyone is what has Nyx wincing. He isn't just Nyx anymore to them, anymore. He's the one giving them their paychecks, their _Captain_ , as Libertus has already said tonight. While his closest friends haven't changed how they act around him, that doesn't mean much when most of the other Glaives are almost painfully formal with him now.

"Really Libertus," He says, "I don't think that it's the best idea."

"Look. You don't like it, we can just leave and drink by ourselves in here. But you're coming out into public if you like it or not."

"Is that a threat?"

"Don't try me Ulric."

Looking at Libertus through the mirror just shows his determined expression. So, shoulders falling a bit in defeat, Nyx agrees with only a little more grumbling.

Which is how Nyx finds himself dragged into the deepest parts of the Galahdian district, squeezed between Lib and Crowe as they order drink after drink. Despite Nyx's misgivings, it's obvious enough that no one cares that Nyx is there. In fact, several of the Glaive are already working their way well into being drunk, their commanding officer be damned.

Nyx finds himself laughing along with them, already working on his third or fourth drink. It's some sort of mix from Galahd, with a halfway spicy taste that often scares off the few Insomnians that come to the bar. Libertus was right, he needed a night to just have fun and relax.

He's in his eighth drink when someone slides into the seat next to him, Libertus having drifted off somewhere in the last hour or so. It's a Galahdian woman with beads that match her eyes. She reaches over and slides her hand up his thigh, leaning in close to his ear.

"Why don't we go have some fun somewhere, soldier?"

Of course Nyx has hooked up with people before. It's a common enough thing in Galahd, just having fun for the night. It's even encouraged some. Seen as a good way to increase good relations between tribes. Build bridges between family. Nyx never really turned down a proposition before.

Yet looking at her, all Nyx can think about is a pair of blue eyes watching him from across the Council room.

Giving the woman a polite smile, Nyx gets up and goes to find Libertus. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

* * *

Nyx wakes up with a nightmare flashing through his head and Selena's name on his lips. He can still hear her echoing through his head. With a broken noise, Nyx wretches himself out of bed and to the bathroom.

He throws up until there's nothing left in his stomach, the alcohol coming back to haunt him. Gasping slightly, Nyx presses his head against the nearby sink, relishing in the relatively cool surface against his clammy skin. Shaking slightly, he waits for the nausea to pass.

By the time he manages to drag himself out of his closet of a bathroom, the digital clock on his table is telling him it's about 4:30 in the morning. They had started early the night before, heading in as soon as the bar opened, and they'd left early too. Early, of course, being before the bar closes instead of being kicked out by the bartender.

Still, it was only about four hours of sleep. Yet the idea of going back to bed is enough to put Nyx on edge. Even with the AC running, the apartment is too quiet. Selena's picture too close, impossible to look at and to get away from.

He hasn't had a nightmare that bad in a while.

Leaning against the wall, Nyx tries to go over his options. He can't sleep here, that's obvious enough. Yet his other two options are Libertus and Crowe, one of which will ask him what's wrong, and the other who brought home a girl for the night. Neither are things that Nyx wants to deal with right now.

But an idea pops in his head, and before he can think better of it, Nyx is dialing the number on his phone. It rings a few times before someone finally answers.

"Nyx?" Cor asks, voice obviously still rough with sleep.

Mouth suddenly seeming dry, he responds, "Yeah. I uh.... I'm at my apartment."

The line is quiet for a moment.

"Do you need me to come get you?"

"Yes," he says, hoping his voice doesn't sound as small as he feels, "Please."

"I'll be there soon, then."

And with that Cor hangs up. Swallowing thickly, Nyx stares at his phone for several moments before burying his head in his knees. Taking a few deep breaths, he forces himself up to brush his teeth before Cor arrives.

Thankfully, it's only a couple minutes before someone is knocking on his door. Yanking on a shirt, Nyx opens the door to the Marshal.

He's obviously been woken up on a short notice, and despite it all Cor somehow manages to look unruffled as always. Going by how Cor looks Nyx up and down, though, he knows that he doesn't look nearly as good. Instinctively running a hand through his hair, he fights the urge to avert his gaze.

"You called?"

Unable to find words, Nyx just nods. Cor looks at him for a long moment, before seemingly deciding to just start walking down the hall. Grabbing his keys and locking his door, Nyx hurries to follow him.

Insomnia isn't abandoned this early in the morning, the city living up to it's name. Cor still has to carefully maneuver around traffic, eyes firmly on the road. Nyx tries to glue his gaze to the window in front of him, but keeps finding himself looking to the man next to him.

Nyx hadn't expected Cor to just come and get him. To just give up on his sleep and drive all the way to the Galahdian district. He had thought Cor would just tell him no and leave it at that. Hell, maybe it's what Nyx really wanted. Some sort of twisted way to make Cor reject him while he was already down, that way it wouldn't hurt so much.

Yet here he is, driving Nyx back to his home without even a complaint.

He follows Cor silently through the hallways as they get to Cor's apartment. A little old lady greets them in the living room, smiling up at the Marshal.

"The little man slept the whole time," She says.

"Thank you, Prudence."

"Of course Cor," She slowly raises herself from the couch, "Just be sure to let me see that child when he's awake sometime, you hear?"

Cor nods, walking Prudence to the door and opening it for her. Nyx watches blankly as he waves goodbye to his neighbor. Cor turns back to him, once again giving Nyx the once over, before gesturing to the couch.

"You can stay in here, or you can go sleep on the guest bed in Prompto's room. It's up to you."

Then Cor goes to move past him and down the hallway, probably planning on going back to bed. Nyx grabs his wrist before he can go. Cor turns with a mildly surprised look on his face, and Nyx realizes that this is the first time that he's purposely touched the other man outside of their spar. It turns the simple press of their skin into something way more intimate that it should be.

"Why?" He asks, "Why do all this? Why help me? Why promote me? Why?"

It's silent between them for a long moment, something going through Cor's head that Nyx can't quite read before he answers.

"I helped get you promoted because I knew you could do it."

The faith that simple sentence says is almost like a blow in itself. But Nyx keeps pressing, "And the rest?"

Cor breaks eye contact first, uncomfortable in a way that Nyx didn't even know he was capable of.

"I can't answer that, because I don't know."

Nyx lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Mind racing, he leans forward without letting his mind catch up enough to talk himself out of it. They sit like that for a moment, Nyx's hand on Cor's wrist, noses brushing, and lips just a scant inch apart. Then Cor closes the distance.

And they're kissing.

If Nyx had thought much on it before, instead of shoving all intimate thoughts of Cor away, he would have thought kissing the man would be something colder. More impersonal, like the mask that Cor likes to put up for the world, only cracking for people like Prompto.

This is nothing like that. It's soft, and hesitant, carefully testing the waters, leaving Nyx with the option to back out whenever he wants. Nyx instead pushes into it, hand slipping up to Cor's shoulders to clutch at them like a lifeline. The kiss is just gentle enough to ache in Nyx's chest, even as Cor's hands find Nyx's hips.

He hadn't even realized he'd closed his eyes until Cor pulls away, taking Nyx's breath with him. Heart hammering, Nyx opens them up and meets Cor gaze for gaze.

Nyx is screwed, and he knows it.


	9. Chapter 9

This close to Nyx, Cor can feel the warmth coming off the other man like waves. Their breaths intermingle, faces still close enough that Cor could easily tip forward and rejoin his lips with Nyx's. It all comes together into a nice feeling, pleasant in a way that Cor hasn't experienced in quite a while.

Yet Nyx looks like someone has just signed his death certificate, and that's what has Cor trying to pull away, worried that he did something that Nyx didn't really want. But then Nyx's fingers tighten on his shoulders, wrapping his shirt up in his fingers and keeping Cor from getting too far away. Slightly confused, Cor puts a hand over one of Nyx's.

Nyx still looks like crap. Hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes. The haunted look he'd spotted when Nyx first opened his apartment door, though, is thankfully gone. That look alone was what had Cor not asking questions in the first place. He was perfectly content just letting Nyx escape whatever demons were haunting him by bringing the Glaive over to his home. This turn of events wasn't even in his mind at all.

There's no ignoring it now, though. So, mindful of the person still clinging to him, Cor carefully maneuvers the two of them over to the couch. Firmly pressing Nyx down, Cor untwines each of Nyx's hands from his shirt. He's not shaking, so Cor takes that as a good sign.

"Stay here," Cor more orders than requests, "I'm going to make coffee."

And that's exactly what Cor goes to do, ultimately deciding to just give up on sleep altogether. He's not just going to leave Nyx alone when he looks like he's teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

Frowning at the coffee pot, Cor thinks over the past month or so. Over every single decision that had been made, and every change that's happened as a result of them.

Maybe Cor had pushed too hard. Had convinced Nyx to take a position that he wasn't really ready for, and the stress was finally catching up to the Glaive. Cor still remembers how rough his promotion had been at first, and just how steep the learning curve was. Maybe he should talk Nyx through it, give some rare reassurance.

The kiss, should be a second priority. Nyx obviously isn't in an emotionally stable place right now. Cor shouldn't have even closed that initial distance in the first place. Yes, Nyx kissed back, but this could all be desperation and something Nyx may come to regret. His face sure did say that.

Pouring two mugs, both with just a little bit of milk, as Cor doesn't know Nyx's preferences yet, Cor brings them back into the living room. Sitting one on the coffee table, he holds out the other for Nyx to take. He does, cradling the still steaming mug close to his chest. Satisfied, Cor settles down next to him.

Cor waits for Nyx to take a few sips before asking, "What's wrong?"

It's not a question Cor normally asks. He's preferential to just finding some other way to show concern. But the only other option here and now other than talking is something far more intimate, and that's not a line Cor's willing to cross with someone until he knows for sure they really want it.

He watches as Nyx reaches up and fidgets with his beads, a nervous habit Cor has noticed he has over time.

"How much do you know about Galahd?"

Cor blinks. It's definitely not the question that Cor was expecting. Still, Nyx is looking expectantly at him, so he wracks his mind for all that he can answer with.

"Galahd itself is a temperate rain forest, filled with dangerous terrain and even more dangerous animals. Even when first annexed into Lucis, your people kept to themselves. Religion was said to be the biggest factor causing the divide, but I don't know enough of it to comment," He answers, and realizes just how factual that sounds, before adding, "I learned from working with Glaives what your tattoos mean. I also know your beads are important, but I never asked why."

Nyx just nods, not looking all that surprised. He takes a long drink from the coffee, pointedly not looking directly at Cor.

"There's a lot more to it, and I should have told you earlier but-" Nyx cuts himself off, hand that was still fiddling with his beads instead moving to push his hair back out of his own face.

"Have I done something that I shouldn't have?" Cor asks, because it's only logical. Someone doesn't get that nervous for no reason.

"No!" Nyx exclaims, before giving a quick glance towards Prompto's room with a wince.

"No," He says, quieter this time, "It's more something _I_ did."

At that, Cor raises a single eyebrow. Nyx pulls a small face in response, once again hiding in his coffee.

"In Galahd family is very important. Tribe is important. Something sacred that is very difficult to add outsiders into. And I've been.... Well. I did a lot of things that the Elders wouldn't approve of. I was already toeing the line pretty hard but now I've _kissed_ you and...."

Nyx is bright red. Sipping his coffee to hide his own reaction, Cor relaxes a bit. Even though he had drawn that line himself, Cor finds himself happy that he hadn't actually needed to. Nyx isn't upset because the kiss itself, but the cultural problems around it.

Regis had been much the same, when they were all still young. His seventeen year old prince had never been outside of Insomnia before they'd met, and had no idea what to do with the troublemaker from Duscae that his father had brought in. Clarus had also had some problems, but as a Shield, he had been much less sheltered than Regis had been.

God, he still remembers the conniption Regis had had the first time they met Cid. Cor hadn't laughed that hard in years.

Still, culture is much easier to deal with than accidentally doing something without consent.

"What did you do, basically ask me to marry you?"

Somehow Nyx gets even more red. Speaking of accidentally not asking for consent....

"Not exactly. I invited you into my family, it didn't really become romantic until. Well. You know."

"We kissed?"

"Yes."

They go quiet after that for a moment, Nyx staring adamantly at the mug in his hand, and Cor twisting this new information around in his head. Surprisingly, Cor finds himself pretty alright with this. He had already trusted the man before this, and with how close Nyx and Prompto are Cor had already accepted that Nyx would be in his life for the long haul.

Something else is nagging at Nyx though, and Cor can tell. His hands are fidgeting with the mug, nails scraping silently down the lacquer on the sides.

"Anything else to add?"

Looking as if he swallowed something unpleasant, Nyx takes an audible breath, as if to steel himself.

"The two options at this point are for me to back out and stop all of this right here, just doing my duties with Prompto and nothing else. Or.... Or the Elders find out and demand that you go through a Trial. That you allow Ramuh to judge you to be worthy or not of joining our people."

"I...." Nyx says, "I understand if you're upset that I even did this in the first place. I won't protest if you want me to back off."

Cor hums softly, giving his best unimpressed look, "And what if I don't want you to?"

That has Nyx's head jerking up, the Galahdian looking at him properly for the first time in several minutes. His mouth is a bit open, like he's trying to find words but can't. He flounders for a long moment before finally settling on silence.

"What is the Trial?"

"You can't really mean you're considering it? It's dangerous, and Prompto still needs you too. You and me aren't the only ones affected by this."

Except Cor was considering it, and for several different reasons.

Prompto of course is on that list. He loves Nyx. If Nyx backed away, even if he says he'll do his duty, Prompto would still notice the difference. It feels wrong for either of them to be putting any sort of distance between them and the toddler's life. Especially not with him finally _having_ a proper life, not that Nyx knows the exact circumstances behind how Cor gained Prompto.

Then there's Nyx. This entire conversation it's been obvious that the man isn't thinking about himself at all, and he clearly doesn't want to distance himself from either of them. Hell, he looked vaguely like a kicked puppy just from bringing it up.

And if Cor is honest with himself, he wants it too. Whatever has been built between himself and Nyx in these past months, - now that Cor allows himself to actually acknowledge that something has changed - Cor finds himself unwilling to let go. Sure, the kiss is only a tentative step in a possible direction, but even if they turn out incompatible, Cor isn't just going to give up. Maybe it's his stubbornness talking, but Cor is willing to try.

So he asks again.

Nyx looks caught somewhere between stricken and hopeful. It makes Cor's chest tighten slightly, seeing that expression on his face.

"You go out into a rainstorm, far enough away that no one can find you, as the Elders call to Ramuh. There he gives you the Trial you must face. If you pass, you earn the right to join a tribe, and wear beads," Nyx explains, "If you fail, he strikes you down then and there. Very few actually pass their Trial and come back."

"Few?"

"One in twenty, give or take a few outliers. It didn't exactly happen often. Raised Galahdian's don't need to do it, just needing to prove their abilities to their Elder instead."

Oh. Tucking away the last part for later consideration, Cor instead thinks over his prospects. A five percent chance to survive isn't the best odds, especially when paired against an Astral.

But it's still a better chance than Cor had to survive the Blademaster, and he's still here now. So what's the problem with gambling once again?

"Alright. When do you want to tell your Elders?"

Nyx looks less surprised this time, but his lips press into a hard line, jaw flexing slightly.

"You know you aren't actually immortal, right?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why even really risk it?"

"Because if you're willing to try, I am too."

Cor lets that admission sit between them for a long moment. Lets Nyx turn it over in his head as many times as he needs.

Nyx puts his coffee on the table, before taking Cor's from his hand and putting it there too. Cor doesn't have time to question it before Nyx is jerking him forward by the shirt, their lips clashing together.

This kiss isn't gentle like the one Cor had led earlier. There's a desperate tinge to it, like a drowning man taking what could be his last gasps of air. But Cor meets Nyx exactly where he's at, not willing to seem hesitant and make the other man back off.

The whole thing ends up being blistering hot, but achingly short when Nyx pulls away. Cor's lips tingle, and he finds himself absently wondering if Nyx is feeling the same.

Nyx stares into his eyes for a long moment before a broken sort of laugh breaks through his lips. He curls inward, forehead finding itself on Cor's shoulder. His hair tickles at Cor's jaw as it follows the pull of gravity. Reaching up, Cor puts a hand on Nyx's back.

"I don't really deserve this. A second chance at a family," He whispers, voice cracking softly at the admission.

"I thought the same thing, once," Cor says, thinking of how hard he had pushed away his friends, his _brothers_ , once upon a time, "Figured out that you just have to take the plunge and accept that you don't always get to chose what you deserve."

There's silence for several long minutes.

"If you're willing to try," Nyx says in a quiet echo of Cor, "I am too."

His lips tug up in the barest of smiles, "Then we will."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update? This early? What can I say, I've been listening to Calling for Rain on repeat and the inspiration is flowing. Enjoy!

Nyx spends the next few hours leaning against Cor on the couch. It's an odd change, from trying to avoid touching Cor in hopes that it would dull the desire in his gut, to now actively seeking out the attention. And Cor gives it, seemingly having no complaint from the suddenly changed dynamic. The only time either of them move is to get more coffee, and when Prompto inevitably wakes up.

Said toddler was extremely happy to find Nyx sitting in his living room, and Nyx quickly found himself with a lapfull. Which is where he is now, Prompto happily babbling on to him, waving his arms and chocobo toy around excitedly. Nyx quietly follows along, giving short responses when Prompto stops his attempts to talk to instead stare at him. Every time he does, Prompto gives him the biggest smile his tiny little face can muster.

Sometime halfway through this, Cor gets up to disappear into the kitchen. Prompto gives him a wave, before going back to Nyx. He slowly starts leaning over, pressing himself into Nyx's chest. Smiling softly, Nyx gives the boy the cuddles he's obviously asking for. Still whispering nonsense, Prompto starts playing with Nyx's hair.

Soon, though, the apartment is filled with the smell of someone cooking. They make it maybe ten minutes before Prompto starts squirming out of Nyx's lap. He watches as the boy determinedly starts toddling into the kitchen. Giving a small sigh, Nyx forces himself up and off the couch, grabbing both his mug and Cor's.

He finds Prompto already sitting at the table, climbed up into his high chair. Nyx pauses on his way to the sink to properly fasten him in, lest Prompto fall off and hurt himself in his bouncing excitment.

Washing the cups, Nyx turns to ask if he can help with the meal, only to get a pointed look from Cor. Knowing a losing battle when he sees one, Nyx instead goes to entertain Prompto at the table. The toddler giggles at every face Nyx pulls, before sending his own right back. It's adorable.

A few minutes later, Cor sets a plate in front of him. Prompto wastes no time digging into his own meal, his portions carefully cut into bite sized pieces. Nyx looks at his for a long moment, though. It's just eggs, toast, and sausage, but it's also something Cor made. Something Cor made for _him_.

Cor must see something in Nyx's face because he raises an eyebrow and asks, "What is it."

Blushing, Nyx tries to come up with a way to explain why this is important.

"Cooking food for someone is important. It shows that you want to invite them into you family. I already cooked for you, but this is the first time you have for me," He says, cutting a piece off the egg with his fork as he does so. The yolk breaks, running into the toast.

Cor responds with a hum, obviously thinking something over even as he eats. Nyx does too, enjoying what should be a relatively routine breakfast far too much. It's all cooked well, and obviously now Cor has already made it clear he wants Nyx to be apart of his family, so Nyx can happily eat the breakfast without any guilt.

"You know, I think Prompto beat me to it. According to him, you're already family," Cor says, before taking a long drink of water.

"I think you're right. What do you say, Prompto?"

"Eggs!" Prompto says happily, obviously not understanding a word of what they just said. Nyx grins at him.

"Absolutely. They're very good eggs."

Prompto nods in response, face suddenly looking serious in a wonderful imitation of Cor.

* * *

Like always, the Elders meet on Sundays to speak on the past week, and hear news from their tribe. It's not something Nyx normally goes too, not with how often he used to end up deployed. Libertus and Crowe didn't go often either, both of them spending what free time they have doing what they want instead of deep in the community.

Not that they weren't an integral part to the Galahdian district. In fact, they did their part in paying into the community fund, and if someone really needed help, they would be there. Elder Meetings aren't everything. The problem is, Nyx needs someone who is a regular face to be there with him, to vouch for him and Cor in front of their leaders.

Pelna, thankfully, is just the person that Nyx needs to convince.

So, Prompto in hand, (Whose cuteness is definitely not a strategy he's planning to use against Pelna.) Nyx knocks on his apartment door. He answers in just a few minutes, and it takes effort for Nyx to not flinch at the sight of his cast. He hadn't exactly forgot the beating Pelna had taken at Glauca's hands, not when he was suddenly in charge of Pelna's injury and leave report, but it's different to remember and to see it in person.

"Captain?" Pelna asks, because of course he does. Even with his arm he still has to come in for briefings, and everyone knows his promotion now.

"I'm just coming as Nyx, Pelna. I need to talk to you."

Pelna frowns slightly, before he ends up glancing and Prompto and melting upon seeing him. That's all it takes for him to open the door all the way for Nyx. That alone is a relief, and Nyx gives Pelna a smile as he enters.

Sitting down at the table across from Pelna, he tries to come up for the best way to explain everything. His mind comes up blank of anything other than blurting out the truth, so that's exactly what Nyx does.

"I invited both Cor and Prompto into my family."

Pelna, who was filling two glasses of water at the sink, suddenly jerks back, spilling it everywhere. He stares at Nyx with wide eyes for a long moment before shoving the now half empty glasses on the counter. Grabbing a dishrag, he starts sopping up the mess, shaking his head all the while.

"You just like shaking things up, don't you Nyx?"

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"Doesn't change that you did it." Pelna pauses for a moment, "Does the Marshal know what you're getting him into?"

"I told him this morning. He understands."

Sighing, Pelna tosses the rag into the sink. Crossing over to the table, he sits down with a small humph. His good hand finds its way up to his nose, pinching the bridge of it slightly.

"You need someone that can vouch for the Marshal, don't you?"

"Read my mind, Pelna."

"I owe Cor my life, you know. Would have been killed if he hadn't been there."

"I know."

That has Pelna moving his hand to look Nyx right in the eyes. He works at his jaw for a moment, seemingly conflicted. Sensing the issue, Nyx pulls out his trump card, and looks down at Prompto, who is happily chewing on his knuckles in Nyx's lap.

"Neither of us wanted to keep Prompto away from either of us," He says, making sure to keep looking at Prompto, "Kid's been through enough already, and Cor would rather try to keep his family together."

It's not a lie, not really. So when all of Pelna's reluctance to the idea crumbles, Nyx doesn't feel guilty.

* * *

People are whispering, gossip already flowing by the time that Nyx shows up with both Cor and Prompto in tow. Nyx had been sure to clean up for this, beads polished and hair carefully braided. He even went over what to do with Cor, making sure that the Elders would have no choice but to give Cor a proper chance for a Trial.

Prompto was easier. He's young enough all Nyx will have to do is declare him as his family, and the Elders will just have to recognize his adoption. So all Nyx had to do in advance was clean the boy's face. His cuteness will do the rest.

Finding Pelna is easy enough, and Nyx comes to stand next to him with a small smile. It's a calm looking farce, Nyx's hands are shaking badly enough that he refused to take Prompto when they stepped out of the car. Cor, on the other hand, is looking impressively impassive. Nyx finds himself wishing that he had the ability to do that.

Pelna just nods at Nyx, before turning his eyes back to the center of the room where the Elders are sat. A few of them have already spotted Nyx's strange guests, and are giving all of them a pointed look. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nyx tries to ignore everyone around him talking.

Cor stands slightly behind him, letting their arms brush together. Nyx isn't sure if the contact is intentionally trying to calm him or not, but Nyx still finds himself relaxing slightly anyways. It's odd how easily Nyx finds himself liking Cor's touch, but maybe Nyx is just affection starved.

The meeting soon starts in earnest. News is told, funding is handed out, and several prayers to Ramuh are made. After what seems like all eternity, it comes the time for the lower members of the tribe to make announcements.

Eyes are already on Nyx before he even steps forward, everyone knowing already. He had taken Prompto from Cor, and he sits the boy down at his feet as he stands before the Elders. They eye Prompto, but none of their gazes are hostile. Instead, they are curious. Some of them even give fond smiles and Prompto grabs onto Nyx's pant leg, ducking behind him wheverer someone dares to make eye contact.

"I declare Prompto Leonis as a part of my family."

Elder Elias, the one in charge of his tribe, hums softly.

"Will you raise him as one of our own, and teach him our ways?" She asks.

"I will."

She gives him a smile, eyes twinkling softly, "Then I have no objections to a new addition to your family, and our tribe. Welcome, little Prompto."

Prompto puffs up his cheeks as he looks at her, seemingly not liking how the strange old lady knows his name. Elder Elias laughs softly at his face.

The easy part is over, and Nyx finds his mouth drying up as he turns back to Cor, gesturing the other man forward. A hush goes through the room as people watch. Cor's face stays blank, that same mask he wears so often still up. Nyx tries to find strength in it as he once again turns back to the Elders.

This time their gazes are harsh. They range from skeptical, to downright hostile. None of them look at him openly like they did with Prompto.

"And I declare Prompto's father, Cor Leonis, as a part of my family."

The room erupts into noise. Most people shocked, and some even disgusted. He can hear several of Cor's titles being tossed around, as well as a few vulgar whispers about what exactly Nyx wanted from Cor. Nyx stiffens, grinding his teeth slightly against each other, but doesn't say another word.

Everyone grows silent as Elder Elias raises her hand.

"Nyx," She says, "You do realize what you are asking, and that I will not be the only one to give judgment on this decision, correct?"

Unable to force himself to speak again, Nyx gives a sharp nod. Elder Elias then turns to Cor.

"And what of you, Cor Leonis. Do you know what will be asked of you, if my fellow Elders decide to give you a chance?"

"I do."

More whispers, quieter this time. Once again the Elders let them speak for several moments before another one silences them.

"Then we shall vote. All for allowing Ramuh to judge Cor Leonis to be worthy of becoming one of Galahd's people, put your Tribe symbol before you."

Elias is of course the first to give her vote. She carefully removes a pendant from her neck, the image of a coeurl etched into the metal, and lays it on the ground at her feet. One by one, the other tribes answer. Holding his breath, Nyx counts each and every pendant that is removed.

Five for, three against. Cor will be getting his trial.

Yet somehow, Nyx doesn't feel any relief and the positive answer. Instead he just feels cold, thinking of what is to come.

* * *

They have to go all the way to Duscae to start the Trial, the Wall making for unfavorable conditions, and Leide being quite literally a desert. Prompto seems to enjoy the several hour long drive, pointing at animals and rock formations they pass. At some point they even pass a glowing haven, and Prompto proudly spouts the word like he's known it his whole life.

When he asks Cor, it turns out that it was his first word, so maybe Prompto has a point to be proud.

Cor is distracted by driving, so Nyx is the only one left to grow more and more anxious as time goes by. Not that he wasn't a tense ball even before this, seeing as they had to wait nearly a week to make this trip, both Nyx and Cor's schedules too rigid to take off with no notice.

Last night Cor had kissed Nyx and then told him he left Nyx as Prompto's guardian in his newly updated will. When he had time to do that, Nyx has no idea, but the fact that Cor was actually considering the possibility that he was going to die was far from reassuring. To be honest, it made Nyx want to just tug both of them close and forget that all this happened.

But Nyx is Galahdian, through and through, and he can't bring himself to just toss either part of himself out without a fight.

Because Cor and Prompto are a part of Nyx now, no matter how hard he tried to deny it at first.

It starts raining even before they make it to the meeting place, a small outpost near the chocobo ranch. Despite his twitchyness, the smell and sound is enough to calm Nyx some. Rain is good, part of home. A sign that Ramuh was still watching over them. He sent up a couple prayers for Cor's safety.

Only the five Elders that voted to have Cor judged are here, as they are the only ones needed. They separate the three of them as soon as they park, Nyx under a caravan awning with Prompto, and Cor standing out in the rain, having everything explained to him by several of the Elders. Nyx watches stiffly as one Elder wets a bowl full of pigment in the rain, chanting something that Nyx can't hear over the pounding drops.

The paint goes on smoothly despite the fact that it's still raining. Other Elders join in the chant, slowly sealing the prayer as they continue to add marks to Cor's skin. Nervously, Nyx tucks Prompto closer to him.

Eventually they all step away, leaving an opening into the wilds for Cor to enter. Before he leaves, though, he turns and gives Nyx the barest of smiles. It makes Nyx's chest flutter, despite the ball of steel built up in his gut.

And then he's gone.

The Elders go off on their own, enjoying the rain in their own time. Nyx lets Prompto down, allowing Prompto to properly enjoy the storm even as he's supervised. Nyx's hands feel numb, and his head just a little far off, so he barely notices when Elder Elias settles down next to him.

"A peculiar man, the Marshal."

Blinking, Nyx turns to her. She smiles softly, watching as Prompto jumps into a puddle and soaks himself more than he already was.

"I've never seen someone face Ramuh with such little fear," She says, "Man cares for the two of you, that's obvious enough."

Despite the moisture in the air, Nyx's mouth feels dry, "Elder El-"

"Hush now, young Ulric, and let me speak."

That's enough to have Nyx's mouth shutting with a small click of teeth.

"Your mother was harsh with tradition. Always came to speak with me every week about what you and your sister had done that time," She smiles at Nyx, "And you sister was kind, always so devoted to Ramuh. There could hardly be a better healer than her."

Prompto screeches in delight, but the sound overlaps with the memory of screaming. Nyx wants to tell his Elder to stop, to not talk about his family, but he finds himself unable to form the words.

So she continues, "I do find myself wondering what they would think about your taste in men. Of course they'd want you to be happy, but I can't help but imagine the fit your mother would have had."

She chuckles softly, barely audible over the pounding rain.

"Selena would have liked him."

Nyx barely manages to force his gaze away from Elder Elias and back to Prompto. He continues to play, unaware of the danger his father is in. Nyx doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing.

"Stop looking like that," Elias says, "Your man will be fine, I have a good feeling about this one."

And with that, she gets up and walks away. Nyx is left alone with Prompto for the next few hours, the storm only getting more intense with every minute. Eventually Nyx pulls Prompto out from under the downpour, not wanting to risk the boy getting struck by lightning in the middle of a parking lot.

The sun goes down soon enough, and Nyx has to put Prompto to bed. Nyx, however, can't sleep. Instead he stays up, restlessly shuffling around outside the caravan. Thunder rumbles above, small flashes of lightning illuminating the forest outside of the flood lights for the briefest of moments.

It's one of those moments when Nyx sees the figure moving at the edge forest. Standing up, Nyx prepares to reach into the armiger just in case it's a daemon.

But then a boot steps onto the asphalt, and Cor makes his way out of the forest. Nyx and him stare at each other for several long moments, before the relief catches up with the Glaive, and he finds himself rushing into Cor's chest.

He wraps his arms as tightly around the other man as he can, beyond happy that his slowly budding family didn't die before it even began. Raindrops flow down his cheeks, imitating tears as he clutches Cor close to him. Cor's response is to return the hug, letting Nyx take whatever reassurance he needs right now.

"See," Elder Elias says, causing Nyx to jerk away, spinning as to see the much older woman, "I told you I had a good feeling about this one."


	11. Chapter 11

Cor has managed to keep many a secret over the years. Yet if there's one person who can smell out someone keeping quiet about something, it's Regis. Cor can't even count how many times Regis has wriggled his way into other people's business over the years he's known him. How Clarus manages to handle seeing him every single day, Cor has no clue.

It's precisely that need to meddle that has Cor pulling into Hammerhead, intent on not going home quite yet. Both because of the pigment still refusing to come off his face, and a particularly clingy Glaive. Not that Cor minds the second one, but the carefully drawn symbols now stained into his skin are rather annoying. For one, Cor barely knows what they mean, and for two, there's no way in hell he's going to be able to hide them from Regis.

So his current strategy is to avoid the conversation all together. Maybe not the most mature thing to do, but Cor finds his relationships to be personal things that his King has no business sticking his nose into.

Hammerhead looks exactly as he left it last time he was here, hot, dusty, and full of cars in need of gas or repair. The familiar sight helps him relax some, easing whatever tension built up on the way over here. At least, until he sees Cindy coming out with Cid himself not far behind.

It's not that Cor is worried about himself, no, despite Cid being one of the few people that can keep him in line, he isn't scared of the man. He's instead worried about what his impression of Nyx will be. It didn't matter how much Clarus tried to parent him when they were younger, Cid ended up being the closest thing to a real father he had, even if he'd have to be impaled by a ronin before he'd admit it. And despite it all, Nyx has somehow ended up becoming a bigger part of Cor's life than intended.

The simple fact is, it would hurt if Cid didn't approve of Nyx.

Cor chooses to pull Prompto out of his carseat as a distraction, instead of face the possibility. The boy happily chatters, fingers going up to trace the pigment still on Cor's cheeks. It had become his second favorite part of Cor's face to touch. The first obviously remained Cor's beard, but that had been carefully trimmed short before this trip started, thus rendering it boring in Prompto's eyes.

Cid raises an eyebrow, eyes moving from Cor's face to the boy in his arms a couple times. His hands sit on his hips, thumbs twining through his belt.

"Well I'll be damned. You not only found the kid, but you kept him too."

"I live to surprise you," Cor deadpans. He gets the response he wants when Cid's face breaks out into a grin.

"Damn right you do," He says, "Kid got a name this time?"

"Prompto."

 _That_ earns him a groan, Cid immediately recognizing where Cor got the name from. He walks on over, grumbling the whole way about how creative Cor is. It takes Cor effort to not smile at the whole show.

"Well. Are you going to let me hold you this time, Prompto?" He asks.

Prompto responds with a suspicious look, before realizing that sometime between their last meetings Cid had somehow gained a _beard_. Within seconds he's leaning forwards in Cor's grasp, intent on getting to the facial hair. Cid takes him, realizing only when tiny fingers are wrapped in the short strands what exactly Prompto had been after.

"Cheeky fellow, aren't you."

All he gets is a giggle and a tug in response.

At that exact moment Nyx comes around the car, settling right next to Cor, his elbows brushing lightly against Cor's. Unconsciously, Cor stiffens as Cid's gaze turns towards the newcomer.

"And who is this?"

"Nyx Ulric," He introduces himself, "Pleasure to meet you."

Cid sizes him up for a moment - eyes far too calculating for Cor's taste - before he carefully maneuvers Prompto into one arm so he can hold out a hand for Nyx. They shake, Cid giving him a lopsided smile.

"Cid Sophiar. I'm an old friend of Reggie's, and that heathen right there who can barely come up with a name for a child."

Cor gives a halfhearted attempt at defending himself while Nyx processes the words that came out of Cid's mouth. Poor man is probably having a conniption about the casual way Cid just referred to the King. That's one thing Cor has noticed about Nyx over the several months they've known each other now, Nyx keeps getting hangups over the whole 'royalty' thing.

Which is exactly why Cor doesn't want Regis to know yet. He would give poor Nyx an ulcer from the stress of it all. He's not exactly known for being down to earth, at least not with his brothers. God, he still remembers the fit Regis had had when he found out that Clarus had proposed to his wife without telling any of them.

So no. Best to put it off as long as possible.

Instead he watches as Cid gestures Nyx into the diner, Prompto still clinging to his beard the whole way inside.

* * *

Cor is sitting outside of the caravan, watching Nyx play with Prompto and Cindy as the sun slowly sets. That's where Cid finds him, settling down into the chair next to him with a groan.

"I'm getting old. Joints complaining a lot more than they used to," He says, offering a beer to Cor. He takes it, deciding not to answer it as he watches Nyx laugh, the sound of it echoing through the parking lot. Despite knowing what that feeling in his chest is, Cor still tries hard not to identify it.

Cid follows Cor's gaze, leaning back in his chair with a small hum.

"So. Are you going to tell me what the hell happened to your face, and how you ended up meeting this man in the first place."

Cor reaches up to touch the stain on his cheek, "It's part of a ritual."

"Ritual?"

"Yeah," Cor's lips turn up ever so slightly, in the barest and driest of smiles, "Basically had to challenge Ramuh to finish it."

Cid sputters a little on his drink, swallowing just wrong upon hearing that. He taps at his chest for a moment, before leveling a glare at Cor.

"Can't keep your life away from risk, can you?"

Cor just keeps that smile on his face and his eyes on Nyx, who is currently spinning Prompto around in the air.

"What was the damn ritual for?"

"It allowed me to join Nyx's tribe and family."

"And how long have you known him?"

"Same amount of time that you've known Prompto."

Cid groans, rubbing his face with his free hand, "Cor Leonis."

"What?"

"Regis is going to skin you alive."

That makes Cor frown before he turns to look at the older man. He had known that Regis would freak out, but that prediction seems a little extreme. Cid seems to read Cor's face, because he pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before pointedly taking a long swig of his beer.

"You met a man, became romantically involved with him, started raising your kid with him, and then decided to join his family?"

"Not in that order, but yes."

"Cor, you dense bastard, you _married_ him."

The world comes to a screeching halt for a split second, Cor's breathing hitching in realization. That warm little feeling in his chest comes back again with a vengeance, turning into an embarrassing heat climbing it's way up the back of Cor's neck, making his ears flush ever so slightly. Cid just shakes his head at him.

Cid's right, Regis is going to skin him alive.

Yet Cor can't quite bring himself to care. Instead he takes a drink from his bottle.

"Do you want to watch my execution?"

Cid snorts, relaxing once again in his chair, "Absolutely."

And they sit like that for several more minutes, just enjoying each other's company as they both finish their drinks. Nyx continues to chase the two children through the parking lot.

Married.

Maybe that's not what Nyx would call it, but the word still feels nice. Leaves him with a giddy feeling he normally only gets during a good fight. Married.

So when Nyx next scoops Prompto into his arm, the toddler squealing in delight as he does so, Cor sets down his now empty bottle and gets up. Crossing the parking lot, he quickly catches Nyx's eye. The Glaive smiles at him, and Prompto soon copies him, both of them painted by the light of the setting sun.

Cor catches Nyx by the waist, pulling him into a kiss. The other man immediately reciprocates, and Prompto takes the chance to lean to the side and lay his face against Cor's chest while still in Nyx's arms.

He'll worry about Regis and his reaction later. For now he's going to enjoy spending time with his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. This is all that I had planned out for this story. I really hope that you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you all so much for the support!
> 
> I might make this into a series, and have a collection of short stories all set in this universe. If you're interested in that, please tell me in the comments, as well as any ideas you have.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I love all of you!


End file.
